


There Can Be Miracles (When You Believe)

by heiressofanor



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Enchanted (2007), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adoption, Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anastasia (1997) References, Andalasia, Canonical Character Death, Crossover, Cursed Relationships, Dawn has Magic, Disney References, During Regina's First Dark Curse, Emma's Yellow Bug, Episode: s06e07 Once More With Feeling, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Family Bonding, Family Reunions, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Graduate Student Dawn, Huntsman | Sheriff Graham Lives, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Magic, Mentions of Cancer, Mr. gold's pawn shop, Neverland (Once Upon a Time), Once Upon a Time Season One, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Portals, Post Angel Series Finale, Post Buffy Series Finale, References to Monty Python, Roommates, Royalty, Singing, Storybrooke, The Enchanted Forest, The Jolly Roger, Time Travel, Unsure Paternity, juvenile delinquents, operation cobra, teen pregnancy (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6293965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heiressofanor/pseuds/heiressofanor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Henry finds Emma in Boston, he meets her sister Dawn, who insists on tagging along. Things in Storybrooke will never be the same. Add in the rest of their crazy family and you never know just what might happen. Oh, and did I mention that Dawn believes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Girl Who Started It All

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on fanfiction.net and cross-posted on tthfanfic.org as well, both under my same penname.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Henry finds his birth mother and Robert and Giselle start a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING! Basically, if you recognize it, it's not mine.
> 
> Spoilers: After Enchanted, starts at beginning of Season One of Once
> 
> Notes on Buffyverse: The Buffy characters are basically the same, but no Glory, no First, Buffy & Faith are the only two slayers, some families & histories are different. Willow & Dawn are witches; Dawn has key essence, but she's always been real. Dawn specializes in portal magic. Oh, and events took place in NYC rather than Sunnydale. I'll bring up more information in my notes as it becomes relevant.
> 
> AN2: This chapter includes direct quotations from Disney's Enchanted.

** Chapter 1: The Girl Who Started It All **

****

_Giselle lay pale and cold on the settee, still as death.  “There’s no way of helping her,” said Nathaniel sadly, holding Prince Edward’s sword tightly against the evil Queen Narissa’s throat.  “She’s done for.”_

_Robert, who was kneeling down near the unconscious redhead suddenly spoke.  “True love’s kiss,” he said softly._

_“What?” said Prince Edward, his gaze drifting from his princess to focus on the other man._

_“It’s the most powerful thing in the world,” said Robert, his thoughts drifting to the wonderful day he had spent with Giselle._

_Prince Edward’s eyes lit up.  “Yes.  Yes, of course.  I knew that.”  Robert stepped back as the prince stepped around and leaned in, kissing Giselle softly.  Nothing happened.  He began kissing her frantically again and again.  “It’s not working,” he said, panic in his voice._

_Queen Narissa laughed maniacally.  “You’ll never save her now,” she gloated.  “When the clock strikes twelve,” the clock began to bong the hour, “she’ll be dead.”_

_“Unless…” Prince Edward trailed off, staring intently at Robert._

_“Unless?” said Robert hopefully.  He took in the look the prince was giving him and suddenly something clicked in his brain.  “It’s not possible,” he protested.  “It couldn’t be me.”_

_“Don’t you see?” said Prince Edward passionately._

_“I’ve only known her for a few days.”  Robert’s protestations were growing weaker by the second._

_“Kiss her, Robert,” said Nancy, standing quietly behind him, her raven hair tumbling in curls to frame her sad, dark eyes.  “It’s okay.”_

_Robert locked eyes with Nancy for a moment before turning back to Giselle and kneeling beside her.  “Please,” he said softly, “don’t leave me.”  He leaned in and placed his lips to hers, kissing her gently._

_For a second, it seemed not to work, but then Giselle gasped and her blue eyes flew open wide.  They locked on Robert and she smiled.  “I knew it was you.”_

                Emma was staring at her birthday cupcake, complete with candle, when there was a knock on the door.  “You expecting anyone, sis?” asked the lanky brunette leaning on the opposite side of the kitchen island.

                Emma glanced over at the door, half hidden behind a wall.  “Nope,” she said.  “You?”

                “Nope.”  The brunette woman headed toward the door, bumping her hip hard against the corner of the wall on her way out of the room.  “Ouch!” she cried.

                “You alright there, Dawnie?” Emma called.

                “Peachy keen,” Dawn grumbled, rubbing her tender hip as she opened the door.  At first she didn’t see anyone.  She glanced around the hallway and then she looked down.  “Can I help you?” she asked the brunette boy who was standing and looking up at her with hopeful brown eyes.

                “Emma Swan?” asked the boy.

                “Sorry kid,” said Dawn.  “My name’s Dawn—Emma’s inside.”

                “I’m Henry,” said the boy, clutching the straps of his green backpack tightly as he followed her inside.  “Are you Emma’s roommate?”

                “And sister,” said Dawn, leading him into the kitchen.  “Ems!” she called.  “You have a visitor.”

                Emma looked up as Down walked in with a little boy trailing after her.  “Who’s the kid?” she asked.

                “My name’s Henry,” said the boy, looking around the open area kitchen and living room of the apartment.  “I’m your son.”

                “I don’t have a son,” was Emma’s automatic response.

                Henry turned to face the blonde woman.  “Ten years ago, you gave a baby boy up for adoption,” he said.  “That was me.”

                “That’s right,” said Dawn, eyes lighting up with realization.  “Wasn’t that when you ran away after Alonna—”

                “Yes, thank you Dawnie,” she said, cutting her sister off.  “How did you find me?” she asked Henry.  “It was a closed adoption; you shouldn’t have been able to.”

                “It’s amazing what you can find online,” said Henry, shrugging his shoulders.

                Dawn smiled brightly.  “I like this kid,” she said, slinging her arm across his shoulders.  “Can we keep him?”

                Emma rolled her eyes at her sister and ignored her.  “Do your parents know you’re here, kid?” she asked Henry.

                “Not exactly,” he admitted sheepishly.

                Emma raised her eyebrow at him.  “You don’t think maybe they’re worried about you?”

                Henry shrugged.  “It’s just me and my mom and she’s not even my real mom,” he said.  “She doesn’t care about me.”

                Dawn winced.  “Listen Henry,” she said, “just because she didn’t give birth to you doesn’t mean that she’s not your mom.  Half our siblings—Emma included—are adopted and you’d never hear any of us say that Mom and Dad aren’t our parents.”

                “You’re adopted too?” Henry asked Dawn.

                “Well, no,” she admitted, “but I’m actually in the minority in our family.  Emma _is_ adopted, though.”

                “And you’re both doing a wonderful job of avoiding the real issue here,” said Emma.  “Now kid, here’s what we’re gonna do.  We’re gonna call your mom and let her know you’re alright, then we’re gonna get you on a bus back to—where are you from, anyway?”

                “Storybrooke, Maine.  And actually, you’re gonna take me back yourself.”

                “Oh really?” said Emma, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at him.  “And why would I do that?”

                “Well, if you don’t, I’ll tell the police that you kidnapped me.  Who do you think they’re gonna believe—me, or my birth mother who gave me up as a baby?”

                Emma stared hard at him.  “Nice try,” she said, “but I don’t buy it.  You’re lying.”

                “Are you sure you wanna risk it?” asked Henry, raising an eyebrow back at her.

                “Look, Henry,” said Dawn from her perch on the kitchen counter, “Emma has this superpower where she can tell when someone’s lying.  It’s really annoying actually.  Makes it near impossible to get anything past her.”

                Emma rolled her eyes.  “You’re such a brat, Dawn.”

                “Why thank you, Emma,” said Dawn, giving her sister a cheeky grin.

 

                Dawn was gloating.  Emma didn’t need to see her sister’s face to picture the smug grin that was currently residing there.  The brunette had her long jean-clad legs stretched out across the backseat of Emma’s yellow bug and she was listening intently to Henry babbling on about his book of fairytales.  Emma wasn’t sure how she got roped into this trip, but she was pretty sure it had been a combination of Henry’s stubbornness and Dawn’s patented puppy-dog pout.

                “So the fairytales in your book are real?” asked Dawn.  Of course her little sister bought into this, Emma thought, rolling her eyes.  She tended to do that a lot in Dawn’s presence.

                “Yeah, except there’s a curse so no one in town can remember who they really are,” explained Henry.

                “Talk about major suckage,” said Dawn.  “So your mom is…?”

                “The Evil Queen from Snow White,” said Henry.  “She only pretends to love me.”

                “Hmm,” said Dawn thoughtfully.  “Are you sure about that?  Evil isn’t born, you know; it’s made.”

                Henry was silent, apparently uncomfortable with the thought.  “Dawn,” said Emma, glancing at her sister’s reflection in the rear-view mirror, “do we have to get into this again?  Right now?”

                Dawn huffed and rolled her big, blue eyes.  “Everyone deserves a second chance, Ems.”

                “And a third and a fourth, according to you.”

                “Hey,” said Henry, attempting to defuse the tension between the sisters, “can you tell me about your family?  Do your parents take in foster kids or something?  ‘Cause you said most of your siblings were adopted.”

                “Not exactly, kid,” said Emma.

                “Mom and Dad just liked adopting kids, I guess,” said Dawn.  Henry twisted around in the passenger seat to see her better.  “I’m the youngest of what was once upon a time a set of ten kids.”

                “Ten!” exclaimed Henry.  “That’s a lot!  Wait, what do you mean by once upon a time?”

                “Well, there’re only nine of us now.  Alonna was the second youngest; a year younger than Emma and two years older than me.  When she was twelve, she was diagnosed with bone cancer.  They caught it early enough to treat it, but it kept coming back.  She was sixteen when she died.”

                “I’m sorry,” said Henry awkwardly, not really knowing what else to say.

                “Thanks,” said Dawn.  “We just try to remind ourselves that she’s somewhere where she’s not in pain anymore.”  Dawn surreptitiously wiped away a tear.  “Anyway, our oldest sister Morgan is actually the daughter of Dad and his first wife, who ran off when Morgan was a baby.  Mom adopted Morgan legally when she married Dad.  Nick is next.  He was about seven when Mom and Dad adopted him and Emma; they were in the same foster home when Emma was a baby.  Charles is next.  Charles—we call him Gunn ‘cause that’s his original last name—is a couple years younger than Nick, but he was eight when Mom and Dad found him and Alonna and adopted them.”

                “Are Emma and Nick blood siblings?” asked Henry curiously.

                “No, but Gunn and Alonna are.  They were abandoned on the streets of LA when Alonna was a baby; Gunn was always her protector.  Next are the twins, Xander and Willow.  They’re actually Mom and Dad’s first biological kids together.  Faith is next; she’s only a month younger than the twins, so they practically grew up as triplets.  Buffy’s only a month younger than Faith, but she didn’t join our family until she was ten.  She’s actually our cousin, but Mom and Dad adopted her when her mom—Dad’s little sister—died.  Emma’s next, then Alonna, then me.   I’m the only one other than the twins who’s biologically both Dad’s _and_ Mom’s.”

                “How do you keep all those names straight?” asked Henry, his head spinning a little bit.

                “Just wait till you add in all the in-laws, nieces, and nephews,” said Emma dryly.

 

                _“I, Giselle Danielle Swan, take thee, Robert Wayne Philip, to be my lawful wedded husband.  To have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live.  You are my one true love and I promise to shelter and cherish your heart for the precious gift that it is.  I love you Robert, with all my heart and I freely give mine to you.”_

_Robert and Giselle smiled at each other as the priest completed the ceremony.  “By the power vested in my by the Holy Catholic Church and the State of New York, I now pronounce you man and wife.  You may kiss the bride.”_

_Giddy with joy, the couple sealed their lips together in true love’s kiss.  Morgan, the flower girl, ran forward and hugged her father and her new mother.  “I’m so happy we’re a real family now,” she said, a smile spreading across her face.  “Can I call you Mommy now?”_

_Giselle smiled back at her and hoisted the seven-year-old brunette girl onto her hip.  “Of course you can, sweetie.  I would absolutely love that.”_

_Robert circled his arms around his two favorite girls.  “And they all lived happily ever after,” he said, his smile reaching all the way to his bright, blue eyes._

_“Oh Robert,” said Giselle, “this is so much more than that.  This is absolutely_ perfect _.”_

                “Did you know your clock’s stuck at 8:15?” said Dawn, stretching out her gangly limbs as she climbed out of the tiny car.  Storybrooke was a quaint little town; just the type of place Dawn loved to explore.

                “It’s because of the curse,” explained Henry.  “Time’s been frozen here for the past twenty-eight years.”

                “Henry,” sighed Emma, leaning against her bug, “do you really expect me to believe that this whole town is under some kind of magical curse?”

                “It’s true,” insisted Henry.  “The Evil Queen cast a curse that sent all of the fairytale characters from the Enchanted Forest to this world with no memories.  They’ve been stuck here for the past twenty-eight years and no one can leave town or bad things will happen.”

                “ _You_ left,” said Emma, trying to reason with him.

                “I was born in this world, so the curse doesn’t affect me.”

                “Okay kid,” said Emma, “whether I believe you or not is irrelevant right now.  How about an address so I can get you home?”

                “Forty-four Not Telling You Street,” snarked Henry.

                Dawn laughed.  “I’ll say it again, Ems: I like this kid.  _Please_ can we keep him?”

                Just then a tall man with curly red hair and round glasses walking a dalmatian walked up to them.  “Henry,” he called out, “is everything alright?  You missed your session yesterday.”

                “Everything’s fine, Archie,” he assured the man.

                “Who are these ladies, Henry?”

                “This is my mom, Emma, and her sister, Dawn.”

                “Howdy,” said Dawn.  “We’re just taking the munchkin home.”

                “Do you know where he lives?” asked Emma.

                “Well, yeah,” said Archie, scratching his dog’s ear.  “He lives on Mifflin Street.  The mayor’s house is the largest on the block.”

                “You’re the mayor’s kid?” said Emma incredulously as Archie waved goodbye and walked off with his dog.

                “Uh, yeah?” said Henry sheepishly.  “She’s really the Evil Queen, though.”

                “Oh and I suppose that was Jiminy Cricket,” said Emma sarcastically.

                “Actually, yeah,” said Henry.  Dawn laughed loudly as Emma groaned.  She had a feeling she was really gonna like this town.

 

                “That’s one big house,” said Dawn, whistling appreciatively as she took in Henry’s home.

                Henry grinned.  “Wanna come inside?” he asked.

                “Nah, squirt,” said Dawn, ruffling his hair affectionately.  “I think I’ll stay out here and wait for Emma.”

                Henry shrugged.  “Suit yourself.”  Impulsively, he grabbed Dawn’s thin waist and hugged her tight.  “It was great to meet you, Dawn,” he said.

                Dawn hugged him back.  “You too, Henry.  Hopefully we’ll be sticking around town for a bit; I’ll work on Ems.”

                “Thanks,” said Henry, eyes grateful.  “See you later?”

                “Sure thing, squirt.”

                Henry smiled at Dawn and took off down the walkway to meet Emma by the front door.  Dawn got a quick glimpse of a well-dressed, dark haired woman in the doorway before she disappeared inside with Emma and Henry.  She leaned casually against the car, pulled her iPhone out of her pocket, and began to check her email and Facebook.

                Dawn nearly jumped out of her skin when someone tapped her on the shoulder.  “Excuse me, miss, did you know that you’re loitering?”  If that yummy Irish accent wasn’t enough, Dawn nearly swooned when she saw the lean, scruffy hunk of a man that came attached to it.

                “Helloooo salty goodness.”  The words were out of her mouth before she could think.  She’d been hanging around her sister-in-law far too much lately.

                Even the little furrow he got between his eyebrows was cute.  “Excuse me?”

                Dawn blushed scarlet.  “I-I’m so sorry,” she stammered, unable to look him in the eyes.  “I really don’t know why I said that.”

                She chanced a glance up and saw a small smile spreading across his handsome face.  “I suppose I should take it as a compliment,” he said.  “I don’t think I’ve seen you around town before.  I’m Sheriff Graham Humbert.”  He held out his large, calloused hand.

                “Dawn Philip, grad student,” she said, slipping her smaller, slender hand into his.  “I’m just visiting town with my sister.”  She jerked her head toward the mayor’s house.  “She’s in there talking to the mayor right now.”

                “So you just decided to wait out here?”

                “Yup,” she said, popping the p like a piece of gum.  “Wasn’t really in the mood for drama; I get enough of that from our family as it is.  What are you doing here?”

                “The mayor called me over,” he said.  “I’m just following orders.”

                “Well, good luck with that, Graham.  I’m stuck out here till sis is done; she’s got the keys.”

                Graham let out a bark of laughter.  “I hope to see you again before you leave town, Dawn Philip.  Have a good night.”

                “You too Sheriff Cutie,” she said, winking playfully at him.  She was pleased to see a light blush color his stubbled cheeks.  Oh yeah, she was _really_ gonna like Storybrooke.

 

                _“Robert, did you ever think about having kids?”_

_Robert turned over in bed to face his wife.  “With you?  All the time, Giselle,” he said._

_Giselle started playing with a strand of his black hair, rolling it between her delicate fingers.  “Do you ever think about maybe adopting a couple kids too?” she asked._

_Robert hummed in contentment.  “Why the sudden interest, Giselle?” he asked._

_“Just something I’ve been thinking about,” she said.  “I think it would be nice to have a big family, don’t you?”_

_“Yeah, that would be nice.  Morgan would love having a couple of brothers or sisters to play with.”_

_“I’m glad to hear that, Robert, because I’m pregnant.”_

_Robert froze.  “You are?”_

_“Surprise!” Giselle said, smiling widely.  “I just found out for sure yesterday.”_

_Giselle suddenly found herself engulfed in her husband’s strong arms, her exposed skin peppered with kisses.  “I love you, Giselle!  We’re gonna be parents!”_

_“I’m glad you’re happy, Robert,” she said.  “Now, how are we going to tell Morgan?”_

_“Doesn’t matter; she’ll just be happy to finally be a big sister.  She’s been bugging me about it since we got engaged!”_

                Dawn woke slowly to a strange, steady beeping noise.  She blinked her eyes, trying to clear the fog from her brain.  She wasn’t sure where she was.  She remembered meeting Sheriff Cutie and then getting back into the car with Emma.  She remembered trying to talk her sister into staying in town and then…nothing.  “Miss Philip?”  She didn’t recognize the voice, but it helped to ground her and clear the dense fog in her head.

                “W-where am I?” she asked, her voice hoarse.  “What happened?”

                “You’re at Storybrooke Hospital,” said the voice, a woman.  “You were in a car accident last night.”

                Dawn finally turned her head to see a kind looking woman with short black hair, jade eyes, and a soft, rounded chin sitting in a chair beside her bed.  “Are you a nurse?” she asked.

                The woman poured a glass of water from a pitcher on the bedside table and handed it to her.  “I’m just a volunteer,” she said.  “Dr. Whale thought it best to have someone stay with you and the nurses were all needed elsewhere.”

                “Thanks,” said Dawn, sipping the water slowly.  “I’m Dawn.”

                “Mary-Margaret,” said the woman, smiling gently.  “Can I do anything for you?”

                “Where’s my sister?” she asked, realizing for the first time that the familiar blonde was nowhere in sight.

                “Your sister?  The woman who was driving the car?”

                “Yeah,” said Dawn.  “She’s about five foot five, blonde hair, green eyes?  Kind of standoffish and skeptical with a brash personality?”

                “She’s okay,” said Mary-Margaret.  “A few scrapes and bruises, but nothing serious.  She—well, Sheriff Graham arrested her for drunk driving.”

                “WHAT!?”

 

                _Robert had chosen Boston as their two-year-anniversary vacation destination.  Giselle had only been in Robert’s world for three years, but she was working hard to learn as much about her new world as she possibly could.  Her most recent fascination was the history of the US, particularly the years surrounding the American Revolution.  Robert took her to several famous landmarks around the city including the Old North Church and Bunker Hill.  Giselle had been particularly fascinated by Boston harbor, the site of the Boston Tea Party in 1771._

_It was during one of Giselle’s impulsive walks around the city when the couple first met the little dark haired waif of a girl who would become their first adopted daughter.  That day Giselle, all smiles and hope, dragged her loving husband into the Boston City Orphanage.  “How can I help you?” asked the matron, a plump older woman with a wispy shock of greying auburn hair and piercing grey eyes._

_“We’re thinking about adopting,” said Robert as Giselle looked around at the dingy brown walls of the room with a slight frown on her face._

_“Excellent,” said the woman.  “Come and meet the girls.”  The girls turned out to be a group of twelve orphans ranging in age from six months to fourteen-years-old.  Robert listened to the matron prattle on while Giselle flitted about, talking to the girls.  None drew her in as much as little Faith, though.  Faith was a solemn toddler, just over a year old, with dark, near black curls and wide eyes of chocolate brown.  Even at such a young age, the girl was stubborn and independent, content with keeping her own company._

_Giselle went over to the child playing in the corner with her worn, well-loved doll and sat down gracefully beside her.  “That’s a beautiful doll,” she said.  “Does she have a name?”_

_The little girl’s eyes darted from her doll to the redheaded woman.  “She Pincess,” she said quietly._

_“Princess,” said Giselle with a smile.  “That’s a lovely name.  My name’s Giselle.”_

_“‘M Fay,” said the little girl._

_“Fay,” said Giselle.  “What a wonderful name.  Do you like it here, Fay?”_

_Faith shook her head, her curls bouncing about her shoulders.  “Big giwls meanies,” she said, narrowing her eyes.  “Fay no like meanies.”_

_Giselle’s heart melted.  “How would you like to have a Mommy and a Daddy, Fay?”_

_“Pincess too?” she asked with wide, hopeful eyes._

_“Princess too.”_

_“Selle be Fay’s Mommy?”_

_“If you’d like me to be.”_

_The little girl darted forward, still clutching her doll, and latched on to Giselle’s waist.  “Wuv you Mommy.”_

_Giselle tightened her grip on the girl as the matron came over with Robert.  “I see you’ve met Faith,” said the older woman._

_“Robert, can we keep her?” Giselle asked, her blue eyes pleading._

_Robert melted into a puddle of goo.  “Of course, darling,” he said.  “Anything for you.”  The smile on her sweet face was worth more to him than all the money in the world._

Dawn woke from her nap to find Henry sitting at her bedside reading from his book of fairytales.  “Aren’t you supposed to be in school, squirt?” she said with a smirk.

                Henry’s head jerked up and he smiled widely at his new-found aunt.  “You’re okay!” he said, scrambling closer and hugging her gently.

                “Yeah, squirt, I’m good.  How’re you doing?”

                Henry shrugged.  “I’m fine,” he said.  “Mom’s mad at me, and Emma doesn’t believe me about the curse, but other than that…” he shrugged again, “everything’s mostly back to normal.”

                “Mostly?” said Dawn, quirking an eyebrow at him.

                “Well, you and Emma are still here, so there’s that.”

                “Glad to be of help,” said Dawn, laughing.  “As for Emma…she’s always been a bit of a sceptic.”  She squeezed Henry’s hand gently.  “Just give her time.”

                Henry sighed.  “I just wanted someone to believe me about the curse.  Who better than the Savior?”

                “Emma’s never done well with pressure,” said Dawn.  “As for believing in the curse…well, you’ve got me, for what it’s worth.”

                Henry’s dark eyes widened in surprise.  “Really?” he said hopefully.

                “Most definitely,” said Dawn, smiling.

                “Can I ask why?”

                “If you come across a story in your book about Giselle and Prince Edward of Andalasia, let me know,” she answered cryptically.

                Henry was about to ask Dawn what she meant by that when the doctor (who was cute, Dawn thought, for an older guy) came in.  “Miss Philip, if I could have a moment of your time, I’d like to discuss your injuries with you,” he said, his icy blue stare slightly unnerving.

                “Sure thing, Doc,” said Dawn.  “Catch you later, squirt.”

                “Bye Dawn,” called Henry as he grabbed his backpack and headed out the door.

 

                _Giselle was seven months pregnant the first time she went to LA with Robert.  She had grown up a lot since her first few years in this world without magic and she was now a mature woman of twenty-six and almost through her second pregnancy.  Despite her maturity, some things about her never changed.  One of those things was her habit of taking impulsive walks through whatever city she happened to be visiting.  She and Robert had left the kids—now numbering six—with his sister Joyce, a single mother of a five-year-old girl, to take such a walk the day they found their fourth and fifth adopted children._

_Walking through the streets of downtown LA at night might not have been the smartest move, but it was the right one.  As Giselle and Robert walked along the dimly lit streets hand in hand, they nearly ran over a small pair of children headed in the opposite direction.  In fact, Robert did clip the bigger child, a boy, on the shoulder, knocking him to the ground.  “Are you alright?” asked Giselle, offering a hand to help the skinny, dark skinned boy up._

_“Yeah, I’m cool,” said the boy, brushing his hands off on his worn jeans.  “You okay, ‘Lonna?” he asked the tiny black girl with wild curls who was sucking her thumb and hiding behind Robert’s leg._

_“‘M kay, Chawie,” she said, removing her thumb from her mouth.  “Dese new Momma an’ Dada?”_

_Charlie’s cocoa brown eyes widened.  “Alonna,” he said, “that’s not—I’m sorry, sir, ma’am.  We were talkin’ bout parents an’ ‘Lonna decided she wants some.”_

_Giselle’s heart went out to the little girl.  She gently reached down and pulled the tiny girl into her arms.  “You don’t have any parents?” she asked the boy as she rubbed soothing circles on Alonna’s back._

_“No ma’am,” said Charlie, tucking his hands in his pockets and looking at the ground, embarrassed.  “Alonna an’ me’ve been on our own fer bout a year now.”_

_“Would you like parents, son?” asked Robert, placing a large hand on the boy’s thin shoulder and staring at him intently._

_“If you’re offerin’ ‘Lonna a home, I’d ‘preciate it.  She deserves the best an’ I can’t give her nothin’.”_

_Robert knelt down beside the boy and gently forced his chin up to look him in the eyes.  “Son, we don’t just want your sister; we’d like you to come live with us too.”_

_“Both of us?” said Charlie, confused._

_“Yeah, both of you,” said Robert.  “I’m Robert and this is my wife Giselle.”_

_“I’m Charlie Gunn and this is my lil sister Alonna—she’s two,” he said, his confidence returning.  “You do this kinda thing often?”_

_“More often than you’d think,” said Giselle with a smile._

_“We’ve got six kids at home,” said Robert.  “Three adopted, three not, and we always have room in our hearts and home for more.  You game?”_

_Charlie looked from Robert’s kind face to Giselle, who was rocking a sleepy Alonna in her arms, and grinned.  “I’m game.”_

“So I hear the doctor’s letting you go in the morning as long as everything continues to go well.”

                Dawn smiled as Emma entered the room.  “Hey sis,” she said.  “Glad to see you’re out of the slammer.”

                “Hah, hah, you’re hilarious, Dawnie,” said Emma, rolling her eyes.  She sat down in the same chair that Henry had occupied earlier.  “So I’m gonna get us a room at Granny’s Inn.  You okay with staying in town a week or two?”

                Dawn smiled widely.  “Of course I’m okay with that, Ems,” she said.  “I really want to check out the town; it seems like a pretty cool place.  Plus, the sheriff is _super_ yum-worthy.”  Emma rolled her eyes.  “That, and the squirt’s kinda growing on me.”

                “Yeah,” said Emma softly, “me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos make my plot dragons and muses very, very happy. :) If you like this story, take a second to leave a brief note. Flames are not welcome, so please don't do it.


	2. Never Too Old to Believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emma and Dawn settle into Storybrooke life and Giselle grows up alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story is rated for language, just to be on the safe side.

** Chapter 2: Never Too Old to Believe **

****

                Dawn was lying in her hospital bed reading a book Emma had brought her on the history of the evolution of the Spanish language when she heard the town clock chime.  She grinned widely and laughed.  “Good luck, squirt,” she whispered.  “You’re gonna need it.”

 

                Emma was in a foul mood when she came to pick Dawn up from the hospital.  “What’s got a bee in _your_ bonnet, sis?” asked Dawn as Emma helped maneuver her into a wheelchair.  “You know this is ridiculous,” she added.  “I’m perfectly capable of walking.  It’s not like I broke my leg or anything.”

                “Hospital policy, Dawn,” said Emma, pushing her down the hall and out of the building with just a hint of a smug grin on her face.

                “So, what’s got you all riled up?” Dawn asked again once they were settled in Emma’s car.

                Emma’s hands clenched on the steering wheel.  “Regina,” she snapped.  “The mayor,” she added at Dawn’s quizzical look.

                “Henry’s mom?”

                “Yeah, her.  She tried to get me to leave town this morning by threatening me.”

                “Which means we’re staying,” said Dawn with a grin.

                Emma smiled tightly.  “You know me so well.”

                “So what’s the deal with her anyway?”

                “Regina Mills is an uptight control freak,” said Emma.  “She’s got the kid in therapy, trying to convince him he’s crazy for a having a brilliant, overactive imagination.”

                “You don’t believe him,” said Dawn.

                “Dawn,” she said with a sigh, “don’t tell me you still believe that Mom’s stories are true.”

                “Fine,” snapped Dawn, crossing her arms over her chest and sinking down into the passenger seat.  “I won’t.”

                Emma sighed again.  “Dawn—”

                “Don’t you Dawn me, _Emma_ ,” snapped the lanky brunette.  “Just because you’ve never seen something doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

                “Dawnie,” sighed Emma (she was doing way too much of that lately), “fairytales aren’t real.  Magic and dragons and heroic princes rescuing damsels in distress _are not real_.”

                “Well,” snapped Dawn, “we’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

                “Dawn, aren’t you a little old for this?”

                “You’re never too old to believe in fairytales, Emma.”

 

                _“Mama, why can’t I stay with you?”  The little redheaded girl clung to her mother’s skirts, tears staining her rosy cheeks._

_Queen Leah knelt down and tucked a loose curl behind the little girl’s ear.  “My darling girl,” she said, tears choking her speech, “it’s not safe here anymore.  Mama and Rory are leaving too.”_

_“But Mama, why can’t I go with you an’ Rory ‘stead of Miss Merryweather?”_

_Queen Leah sighed and pressed her forehead against her daughter’s, her own blood red ringlets forming a curtain to shield their faces.  “My darling Giselle,” she said, “there is an evil witch after your sister and myself.  I cannot put you at risk too, my darling girl.”_

_“I can be brave, Mama,” said Giselle, her voice small._

_“I know, princess,” said Queen Leah, stroking Giselle’s curls, “but I need you to be a different kind of brave now.  No fighting witches and dragons; I need you to be brave enough to let us go.”_

_“What about Papa and Thommy?”_

_“Papa and Thommy are going to remain in our kingdom,” said Queen Leah.  “Maleficent has no desire to harm either of them.”_

_“You said she doesn’t want me neither,” protested Giselle.  “Why can’t I stay with Papa and Thommy?”_

_“My darling princess,” said Queen Leah, wiping the tears from Giselle’s face with her thumb, “there is another witch who would do you harm.  I cannot let that happen.”_

_“But Mama, I’m brave.”  Silent tears continued to fall from the little girl’s crystal blue eyes._

_“I know, my darling girl.  I know.”  Queen Leah hugged her tight.  “I am only doing this to protect you.  I love you too much to lose you, Giselle.  You will be safe in Andalasia.  King Luka has given his word that no one will harm you within his borders.”_

_“Mama—”_

_“Never forget I love you, Giselle.  I will_ always _love you.  Someday we will see each other again.  You will grow in kindness and in beauty and someday you will meet your one true love and you two will share a very special kiss.  When that day comes, the witch will no longer be a danger to you and that is the day when we will see each other again, my darling girl; the day that you find your happily ever after.”_

                “Those records were sealed,” groaned Emma, glaring daggers at the newspaper sitting in front of her.  “How the hell did she get them?”

                Dawn shrugged, adding salsa and bananas to her burger and ignoring the odd looks other (nosy) customers were shooting her way.  “I’m sure Madam Mayor has her witchy ways,” she said, frowning thoughtfully at her food before snagging the scantily clad waitress (whose nametag said Ruby) and asking for a bottle of tabasco sauce.  “I don’t know how you managed to get them sealed in the first place,” she added.

                “Dad,” said Emma simply.

                “Really?” said Dawn, mixing together ketchup, mayonnaise, and chocolate milkshake to dip her fries in.  “Even after he threatened to ground you for the rest of your life?”

                Emma’s lips quirked into a small smile.  “Yeah, what can I say?  Dad’s a sucker when it comes to his kids.”

                “Totally,” agreed Dawn, accepting the tabasco from Ruby with a smile.

                “I just didn’t want Henry to find out this way,” said Emma.

                “Find out what?” asked Graham, coming over to stand at the end of their booth.

                “Hey Sheriff Cutie,” said Dawn, grinning up at him.  “We were just talking about Emma’s juvenile misdeeds.”

                Graham grinned.  “Yeah, that’s the big story around town today.”

                “I just didn’t want the kid to find out this way,” repeated Emma.

                “What’s done is done,” said Dawn with a casual shrug.

                “Hot cocoa with cinnamon for Blondie,” said Ruby, setting a hot mug down in front of Emma.

                “Sheriff, thanks, but—”

                “Oh, I didn’t send it,” said Graham, smirking.

                “I did,” said Henry, popping out from behind the sheriff.  He was wearing his school uniform and clutching the straps of his backpack loosely.

                “How did you know I like cinnamon in my cocoa?” asked Emma.  “Not many people do; not even Miss Lacks-Taste-Buds over here.”

                “What?” protested Dawn, biting into her burger, which she had added tabasco and her weird fry dip to.  “My taste buds are just fine, thank you very much.”

                Emma rolled her eyes.  “Whatever you say, Dawnie,” she said.

                Henry smiled at their antics.  “I guessed,” he said.  “I like cocoa with cinnamon too.”

                Emma grinned back at him, but it quickly transformed into a small frown.  “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be in school?” she asked.

                “I’ve got time,” said Henry, sliding into the booth beside Emma.

                “I’ll take that as my cue to go,” said Graham.  “See you around, Miss Swan, Dawn.” 

Dawn smiled goofily around her mouthful of food at his retreating back.  “Smooth, Dawn,” said Emma dryly.  “So what’s up kid?”

                “I was thinking that we need a code name for breaking the curse and figuring out who’s who.  I was thinking Operation Cobra.”

                “That’s brilliant, squirt!” said Dawn excitedly.

                “Really?” said Emma, raising her eyebrow at her little sister.  “That has nothing to do with fairytales.”

                “Exactly,” said Henry.  “That’s why it’s perfect; Dawn gets it.”

                “Henry,” asked Emma, “why exactly are you so sure this town is under an evil curse?”

                “No one remembers who they are,” said Henry.  “No one can remember how they came to be here.  If you ask anyone for details about their past, they’ll all tell you it’s just a haze.”  He pulled his storybook out onto the table and Emma began to flip through it.  “The only way to break the curse is for _you_ to break it, Emma.  You’re the Savior.”

                “I’m not a savior of anything, kid,” she protested.  “Hey, why are there pages torn out at the end?”

                “Just in case the Evil Queen gets ahold of the book, she won’t find out that you’re the Savior.”

                “Wait, Emma’s in the book?” said Dawn.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

                “Sorry,” said Henry.  “I guess I forgot you didn’t know.”

                “What’s she doing in the book anyway?”

                “Well, she’s the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, the product of true love, and the Savior.  Her parents sent her through a magical wardrobe to this world when she was a baby to give her her best chance.”

                Emma sighed.  “Henry—”

                “No, it makes sense,” said Dawn excitedly.  “Mom and Dad said that they found you and Nick in Maine when they adopted you.  It was probably somewhere close by here, right?  Don’t answer that, Henry, I’ll find out myself.  Ooo, Operation Cobra is gonna be so much fun!  You gonna finish your cocoa there, Ems?”

                “Dawn Giselle Philip, keep your nasty tabasco away from my cocoa!”

 

                _Seven years after her mother left her in a small cottage in the Andalsian corner of the Enchanted Forest, the fairy Merryweather disappeared, leaving the thirteen-year-old Giselle to fend for herself.  “Oh Pip,” she cried to the small chipmunk pup she had rescued from a hawk, “I don’t know what to do.”  The animal was still too young to speak, but he cuddled up against Giselle’s cheek and chattered comfortingly at her._

_Giselle was an incredibly resilient child.  She spent little time wallowing before she got up and began the familiar chores that came with living in a cottage.  For as long as she could remember, it had been just her and Miss Merryweather.  She had only vague recollections of a woman with blood red curls and sad blue eyes; almost like a dream.  The only visitor she and Miss Merryweather had ever had was Old Mr. Luka, who’d stopped coming around the year Giselle had turned nine.  Now that Miss Merryweather was gone (Giselle somehow knew that the grumpy fairy wasn’t coming back), Giselle had realized that she would have to learn how to survive without human company._

_Andalasia was far less populated than the rest of the Enchanted Forest.  Few humans ventured into that part of the forest as it was a haven for ogres.  During the reign of King Luka IV, the ogre menace had been hunted down to near extinction.  Since his death, however, the ogre population had grown exponentially.  Young Prince Edward, a lad of twenty, was the only one who still partook of the sport.  His stepmother, the queen, indulged him in the hope that it would keep him away from the pursuit of a wife.  For if the prince was ever to marry, Narissa would lose her crown and Edward would become king._

_Giselle, tucked safely away in her cottage in the forest, knew nothing of this.  She continued on in her simple life in the hopes that someday her one true love would find her and give her a very special kiss.  Little did she know that in six short years that day would come, but in a way that she never would have expected._

Dawn had gone off on her own to explore the town when Emma had offered to walk Henry to school.  The first place she wanted to check out was the library, but when she located it beneath the clock tower, she found that it was abandoned and locked up tight.  Disappointed, Dawn wandered along the main street, ignoring the stares she was getting from the townsfolk, until she came to an interesting looking shop.  Hanging above the shop was a sign that read Mr. Gold Pawnbroker & Antiquities Dealer.

                She entered the shop and the bell above the door tinkled in welcome.  “Hello?” Dawn called out.  The shop was dark and had an otherworldly feeling to it.  No one was in sight, so she decided to look around at the intriguing pieces displayed around the room.  She was careful not to touch anything, though, lest her clumsiness strike.

                “How can I help you, dearie?”  Dawn nearly jumped out of her skin at the unexpected voice with a thick Scottish accent.  Dawn whirled around, nearly knocking a ceramic vase to the floor (she caught it just in time).  The man standing in the middle of the shop was on the short side for a man (though still slightly taller than Dawn) and middle aged with chestnut brown hair that fell in waves to his chin.  He was dressed impeccably in a black suit and a red tie and he leaned his weight on a fancy black, silver-tipped cane.

                “Uh, I was just passing by and the shop looked really interesting so I thought I’d stop in and take a look around.  There’s some really fascinating stuff in here.”

                “I’m something of a collector of rare and priceless artifacts,” said the man, his deep brown eyes (so terribly familiar) were guarded.

                “Mr. Gold, I presume?” she said.

                “Yes.  Who do I have the _pleasure_ of meeting?”

                “I’m Dawn Philip,” she introduced herself.  “I actually double majored in history and linguistics for my Bachelor’s degree at Oxford, with a minor in world mythology and folklore.  I’m currently finishing my graduate thesis on ancient languages remotely while my advisor takes some personal time off.  Did you know you have a book in here that is written in a rare form of Ancient Greek that predates almost all written records?”

                Mr. Gold looked at her thoughtfully.  “Do I indeed?” he said, his face unreadable.

                Dawn smiled widely.  “Yeah, I was actually just working on translating the bit that I could see in the case before you came in.  I don’t suppose it’s for sale?”

                There was something odd, almost predatory, about Mr. Gold’s smile.  “Everything’s for sale,” he said, “…for the right price.  Are you willing to make a deal for it, dearie?”

                Dawn narrowed her eyes suspiciously.  “That would depend on the conditions of the deal,” said Dawn cautiously.  “My dad taught me never to make a deal without first knowing every single detail and loophole and reading the fine print _very_ carefully.”

                “He sounds like a wise man,” said Mr. Gold, studying Dawn intently.

                Dawn shrugged.  “He’s a New York City lawyer,” she said.  “It comes with the territory.”

                “You’re Miss Swan’s friend,” said Mr. Gold.

                “Sister, actually,” said Dawn.  “Swan’s actually Emma’s middle name; she only uses it as her last name when she wants to keep her personal and professional lives separate.”

                “And she won’t mind you telling her secret to a total stranger?”

                “What secret?  That she’s a Philip?  She should be proud; us Philips are generally a very likeable bunch.”

                “Indeed, Miss Philip,” said Mister Gold, his stare unnerving.  “Two hundred up front and you help me out, organizing and cleaning my store twice a week for the duration of your stay in town—your choice of day and time—and the book is yours.”

                “Monday, ten AM and Thursday, two PM,” said Dawn.

                “Do we have a deal, then?” asked Mr. Gold, extending his hand.

                “Deal,” agreed Dawn, shaking the offered appendage.

                Mr. Gold limped over to the case, leaning heavily on his cane, and removed the book.  “Here you are, Miss Philip,” he said, handing it to her.  “I’ll expect you here tomorrow at two.”

                “Thank you, Mr. Gold,” she said, smiling.  “I’ll see you then.”  Dawn was giddy with excitement as she exited the store…until she answered her ringing phone.

 

                Dawn stormed into the tiny police station like a hurricane, her hip-length brown hair billowing behind her.  “Emma Swan Philip,” she seethed, “you’d think you’d spent enough time behind bars for one lifetime.  I just can’t leave you alone for a second, can I?”

                Emma sighed and leaned her forehead against the metal bars of the cell.  “I was framed,” she said, frustration evident in her voice.

                Dawn rolled her eyes, huffed, and crossed her arms.  “That’s what you always say, Em.”

                “That’s because it’s always true.”

                “Like you’ve never done anything illegal before,” snapped Dawn.

                Emma narrowed her eyes at her sister.  “Oh, you’re one to talk, Miss Kleptomaniac,” she said.

                “I was thirteen!” protested Dawn, throwing her hands in the air.  “Are you _ever_ gonna let that go?”

                “Let me think about that…” Emma stroked her chin thoughtfully, “Little Miss Perfect has a dark side?  Yeah, that’s never gonna get old.”

                Dawn groaned and flopped down on the couch beneath the window in a jumble of limbs and hair.  “I swear, Emma,” she said, “you are _such_ a pain in the ass sometimes.”

                “Say, Graham,” said Emma, turning to the Sheriff and ignoring her sister’s dramatics, “how much longer am I gonna be stuck here?”

                “Well, if you can make bail, you can get out of here pretty quick,” the scruffy sheriff said, stepping out of his office into the main room.

                “Dawnie?”  Emma turned pleading green eyes on her sister.

                “Sorry, Em,” said Dawn with a shrug, “I blew all my cash on a book.”

                Emma’s eyes widened dramatically.  “A book?  You usually carry at least two hundred bucks on you; what kind of book costs that kind of money?”

                “The kind that predates almost all written history and is in an extremely ancient dialect of Greek that only like three of four people in the whole world knows how to translate…me included.”  Dawn had the sense to look sheepishly at the floor as she spoke.

                Emma banged her head against the metal bars hard.  “Only you,” she grumbled.  “What am I supposed to do now?”

                “Miss Blanchard will bail you out,” said Henry, walking into the station with his teacher.

                “Hey, I know you,” said Dawn, pointing a finger at Mary-Margaret.  “You’re that volunteer from the hospital.”

                “She’s also my teacher,” said Henry, coming over to sit with Dawn while Mary-Margaret took care of bailing Emma out.

                “So who’s she in the Enchanted Forest?” asked Dawn quietly.

                “She’s Snow White.”

                “Emma’s birth mother?”  Dawn’s blue eyes darted back and forth between the two women.  “Okay, I definitely see the resemblance, but the whole lack of an age gap is gonna take some getting used to.”

                “Ready to see our room?” asked Emma, interrupting the brunette pair.

                Dawn jumped to her feet.  “Am I ever,” she said.  “Are we gonna see the squirt home first?”

                “Nah, I’ve got a session with Archie tonight,” said Henry.  “I’ll just head over there.  I’ll see you later?”

                “Course, squirt,” said Dawn, ruffling his shaggy hair affectionately.  “I’d like to see you try to get rid of me now.”

                Emma slung her arm over her taller sister’s shoulders.  “She’s like a leech kid,” said Emma, lips quirking into a small smile.  “Once she’s latched on to you, it’s really hard to get her to let go.”

 

                _“I’ve been dreaming of a true love’s kiss, and a prince I’m hoping comes with this…”  Giselle sighed and wiped the sweat off her brow with her bare arm.  She was eighteen and hadn’t had any contact with another human being for four years, since she had had a run in with a strange girl with a red cape and her tough-as-nails grandmother.  They had just been passing through on their way to King Leopold’s kingdom in the north, so even that was hardly worth remembering.  She lived day to day with the belief that her one true love would one day find her and take her away from this place…but some days were harder than others._

_“Oh Pip,” sighed Giselle, leaning on the handle of her broom, “do you think he’ll ever come for me?”_

_Pip, now a fully grown chipmunk, scurried up Giselle to sit on her shoulder.  “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said.  “Of course he’ll come.  You just gotta keep on believing.”_

_Giselle gave her best friend a small smile.  “Thanks, Pip,” she said, scratching his ears gently.  “Sometimes I just forget.  I’m glad I have you here to remind me.”_

_“Anything for you, sweetheart.  Now what say we call the others to help you finish cleaning up and then we can have a nice game of tag’n’chase?”_

_“Oh, Pip, you always know just how to cheer me up.”_

                “What do you mean we have to leave?” said Emma furiously.

                “I’m sorry,” said Granny, her voice as genuine as the expression on her face.  “I was informed of a clause in my lease that prevents me from renting to felons.”

                Dawn touched Emma lightly on the shoulder.  “Calm down, Ems,” she said.  “It’s not Granny’s fault.”

                Emma took a deep breath and sighed.  “You’re right.  It’s not your fault, Granny.  Dawn and I will be out of your hair as soon as we have our stuff together.”

                “Actually Miss Swan,” said Granny, a small smirk on her face, “your sister is welcome to stay, if she’d like.  I have no grounds to ask her to leave.”

                “Perfect,” said Emma before Dawn could protest.  “If you could change the name on the bill to Dawn Philip, that would be great.”  She grabbed her favorite red leather jacket and headed out the door.  “Thanks,” she called back over her shoulder, disappearing from sight.

                Dawn blinked her large eyes owlishly.  “What just happened here?” she asked.

                Granny grinned wolfishly.  “You just got yourself a room, honey,” she said.  “Welcome to Storybrooke.  I hope you enjoy your stay.”

 

_Prince Edward was everything Giselle had ever dreamed of her one true love being.  He was tall and handsome, dashing and brave.  He had great hair, sparkling blue eyes, a killer smile, and the voice of an angel.  She knew it was true love the moment she laid eyes on him and they sang their love duet together._

_“You’re the fairest maid I’ve ever met,” Prince Edward sang.  “You were made—”_

_“—to finish your duet,” sang Giselle, clasping his hands in hers._

_“And in years to come we’ll reminisce,” they sang together._

_“How we came to love,” sang Edward._

_“And grew and grew love,” sang Giselle._

_“Since first we knew love through True Love’s Kiss!” they finished their song together._

_Prince Edward drew her close.  “Come to my castle tomorrow,” he said.  “We shall be married with all haste.”_

_“Of course, my prince,” said Giselle, smiling brightly.  “I can hardly wait.”_

_“I shall count the minutes until we meet again, my love,” he said, gently lowering her from his horse.  “Fare thee well, fair Giselle.”_

_“Farewell, Prince Edward,” she called back, waving to him as he rode off through the forest.  She couldn’t stop smiling.  She had found her one true love and soon they would be together forever._

                Dawn knocked loudly on the doorframe of the sheriff’s office.  “Knock knock,” she called out redundantly.

                Graham looked up from his paperwork and smiled.  “Hello Dawn,” he said.  “What can I do for you?”

                “I come bearing gifts,” said Dawn, sliding into the room and holding up a paper bag and a Styrofoam cup holder with two paper coffee cups.  “Donuts and coffee,” she elaborated.  “Well, coffee for you.  I’m not allowed coffee after the incident with me and Willow at Central Park Zoo—it was _not_ pretty, believe you me.”

                “Thank you, Dawn,” said Graham, getting up and taking the offering from her.  “Care to join me?”

                “Sure thing, Sheriff Cutie,” she said, dazzling him with her smile and taking the seat he pulled up to his desk for her. 

“I’ve gotta ask though,” he said, sitting back down, “donuts and coffee?”

                Dawn shrugged.  “I didn’t know what you liked,” she said, “so I figured I’d go for the stereotype.”

                Graham laughed; he had a nice laugh, thought Dawn.  “Good choice, Dawn,” he said.  “I happen to _love_ donuts and coffee.”

                “Excellent,” said Dawn, selecting a chocolate covered, custard filled monstrosity topped with rainbow colored sprinkles, “because I happen to love donuts too.”

                “Is that so?” said Graham with a smirk.  Dawn had a bit of custard on her nose, so he reached out impulsively to wipe it off with his thumb.

                Dawn’s breath hitched.  “Yup,” she said, trying to keep her cool.  “My brother used to bring them home for his study sessions with my older sisters and he would always save a couple just for me.”

                “Sounds like a good brother,” said Graham.

                “One of the best,” said Dawn, gazing distractedly into his haunted grey eyes.

                “Tell me about him?” he asked, staring intently into Dawn’s big blue eyes.

                Dawn blushed bright red.  “S-sure,” she stuttered, his stare throwing her off balance, “but I’ll have to tell you about the rest of my siblings too.”

                “That’s okay,” said Graham.  “I’ve got all night.”

                “Alright,” said Dawn.  “Let’s start with my oldest sister, then…”


	3. That's How You Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which John Doe wakes up and Giselle learns what it means to be a big sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story title comes from the song "When You Believe" from DreamWorks Prince of Egypt.

** Chapter 3: That’s How You Know **

****

                _Giselle stared at her mother’s strangely large stomach.  Her parents, the king and queen, had explained to her that her baby brother or sister was inside there, but the little blue-eyed bundle of energy still had many questions.  “How did my baby brother or sister get inside you, Mama?” she asked innocently, crawling up onto her mother’s near non-existent lap.  “Did you eat him?”_

_Queen Leah chuckled lightly.  “No, my darling girl,” she said.  “Your baby brother or sister is inside of me because he—or she—is still too small to live outside of me.  He—or she—still has to grow some more before he—or she—can come out.”_

_“But why?” asked Giselle.  “Why can’t he come out and play with me_ now _?”_

_The queen smiled patiently at her daughter.  “Well, he—or she—can’t survive without me just yet, my darling.  Before a baby is born, he—or she—depends on the mother to keep him alive and help him grow.  All babies start out very small, Giselle.  Even after your brother or sister is born, it will still be some time before he—or she—is big enough to play with you.”_

_“But why, Mama?”_

_Queen Leah chuckled and pulled her daughter close.  “Oh my darling Giselle, you are so full of questions today.  Why the sudden interest?”_

_Giselle buried her face in her mother’s chest and shrugged.  “Papa says I’m gonna be a big sister soon an’ that I gotta be ‘sponsible for the baby.  But Mama, I don’t know how ta be a big sister an’ I don’t even know what ‘sponsible means!”  She started at a mutter, but ended her rant at a wail._

_“Baby girl,” said the queen patiently, “no one knows how to be a big sister at first.  You will just do the very best that you can.  You will love and care for your baby brother or sister with all your heart and that will make you the best big sister you can be.”_

_“Really?”  She looked up at her mother with pleading eyes as blue as the sky on a clear day._

_“Of course my darling.  You will be the very best big sister that any Giselle could ever be.”_

_Giselle smiled happily and cuddled close.  Then she spoke, her voice a small whine, “I still don’t know what ‘sponsible means, Mama.”_

 

“Look, Em, if I’d’ve known you were planning on sleeping in your car, I _never_ would have agreed to stay at Granny’s.”  Dawn was half-bent over with her head poking through the open passenger side window of Emma’s yellow bug.

                “I know, Dawnie,” said Emma, lowering the newspaper (where she was perusing the housing ads) and looking her sister in the eye, “that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

                Dawn rolled her eyes and opened the passenger side door to join her sister inside.  “It’s not exactly ideal,” she said.

                Emma shrugged.  “It’s not the first time I’ve slept in my car,” she admitted.

                “Doesn’t make it right,” said Dawn.  “Mom and Dad’d be pissed if they found out.”

                Emma narrowed her green eyes to glare at Dawn.  “That’s why no one’s going to tell them, capiche?”

                Dawn opened her mouth to protest, but was interrupted by a light tap on Emma’s window.  The sisters looked over to see Mary-Margaret waving at them, so Emma rolled down the window.  “Hi Mary-Margaret,” she said.

                “Hi,” she said back, glancing into the back seat of the bug and frowning at the pile of blankets and pillows.  “Not that it’s any of my business, but are you guys sleeping in your car?”

                “Just Emma,” said Dawn.  “I’ve got a room at Granny’s, but she was forced to kick Emma out. We’re pretty sure it was the mayor’s doing.”

                “Hey,” protested Emma, “it’s not so bad in here.”

                Mary-Margaret looked doubtful.  “If you say so,” she said.  “Just—if you change your mind, I’ve got an extra room available for rent at my apartment.  It’s yours if you’d like it.”

                “Thanks,” said Emma stubbornly, “but I’m fine.”

                Mary-Margaret shrugged.  “Just think about it,” she said.  “It’s an open offer.  You girls have a good night.”

 

                Dawn slid into the empty bench across from Henry at his booth, waving to Emma and Mary-Margaret as they left the diner together.  “What’s up squirt,” she asked her nephew with a smile.

                “Hey Dawn,” said Henry.  “Guess what?  I found Prince Charming today.”

                “Prince Charming as in Emma’s birth dad?” asked Dawn, raising an eyebrow curiously.

                “Yup.  He’s in a coma at the hospital.  I saw him today when my class went there to volunteer.”

                “You don’t say,” said Dawn, pulling Ruby aside to order a hot chocolate.  “So what’s the plan there?”

                “Miss Blanchard is gonna read their story to him,” said Henry excitedly.  “It’s perfect!  They’re true loves; he’ll _have_ to remember her!”

                Dawn gave him a sad grin; she wanted to believe it would happen, but she knew how tricky curses could be.  “I hope so squirt,” she said.  “So any luck finding the story I told you about in that book of yours?”

                “Not yet,” said Henry, eying Dawn oddly as she pulled a bottle of tabasco from her large purse.  “Do you take that stuff everywhere with you?”

                “Mostly,” admitted Dawn.  “Dad and Nick always resupply me at Christmas because they got tired of me always asking for it at restaurants.  Thought it was weird or embarrassing or something.”  She shrugged nonchalantly and proceeded to dump a generous amount of the hot sauce into her cocoa.  Henry made a disgusted face.  “I’ve been told that my taste buds are weird,” said Dawn, cracking a smile.

                “It’s stranger than cinnamon cocoa, that’s for sure,” said Henry.

                Dawn snorted.  “Story of my life, squirt,” she said.  “Anyway, do you have your book with you?  We could look for the story together.”

                “Sorry, Dawn,” said Henry, “Miss Blanchard is borrowing it right now.”

                “Right, right.  The reading to her prince thing-a-ma-bob,” said Dawn, nodding head.  “Maybe some other time, then?”

                “I’d like that,” said Henry, smiling widely.  Dawn smiled back, giddy that her newly-discovered nephew wanted to spend time with her.  “So are you gonna tell me more about this story?” he asked after a minute of silence.

                Dawn eyes him critically.  “I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” she said slowly.  “What do you want to know?”

                “How does it start?” he asked eagerly.

                “Well, it all starts with a girl…”

 

                _Giselle padded along the empty halls of the dimly lit castle on tiny, bare feet.  She knew she was supposed to be in bed (Miss Merryweather would be very cross with her if she was caught), but she desperately wanted to see her new baby brother.  She didn’t really see what all the fuss was about; Thomas was small and he cried a lot, but he didn’t do much else.  All the same, he was her brother and that_ meant _something (she wasn’t sure exactly_ what _it meant, but that’s what Papa told her).  Giselle crept up to the nursery doors on her tippy-toes and gently turned the silver knob._

_The nursery hadn’t changed a bit since she had last seen it, when Mama was still keeping Thomas in her tummy.  The room was dark now, but during the day it was filled with bright sunlight streaming in from the two large floor-to-ceiling windows that took up most of the wall directly opposite the door.  Giselle glanced quickly to the small door to the left of entrance that led to Miss Merryweather’s room. The smaller door was cracked open slightly and she could hear the familiar loud snores of her nurse.  She knew from experience that once the raven haired fairy was out, she slept like the dead.  The little redheaded girl scampered across the room to the lone cradle; the same white wood painted with mint colored vines that had once been hers.  If she stood on the very tips of her toes, she could just see over the top._

_Thomas was bundled up in an azure and silver chevron patterned blanket, a tuft of dark blonde hair sticking up on the top of his head.  He was fast asleep; one tiny arm had escaped from his cocoon and he was sucking contentedly on his little thumb.  “You know, you’re kind of cute,” said Giselle softly, reaching out her hand to stroke his soft cheek.  “Maybe you aren’t so bad after all.”_

_Giselle was mesmerized; she couldn’t stop staring at her sleeping brother.  She saw him stir slightly, his face scrunching up as if preparing to cry.  She simply couldn’t let that happen.  If Thomas started crying, Miss Merryweather would wake up and she would be sent back to bed.  That was just not acceptable.  Like a little spider monkey, Giselle climbed up the side of the cradle and plopped down beside the tiny baby.  She was small for four-and-a-half so she fit comfortably next to him.  She laid her hand across her brother’s chest and hugged him close to her, like a teddy bear.  “Shh Thommy,” she whispered, “Ellie’s here.  Ellie will keep you safe.  Go back to sleep.”_

_Giselle fell asleep with her ear pressed against Thomas’ chest, his soft, even breaths lulling her into a deep sleep.  When Queen Leah came in at midnight to feed her son (she insisted that she could feed her own child, thank you very much), her heart melted at the sweet picture her two children made.  And to think she had been worried about Giselle adjusting to the new baby.  She had absolutely nothing to worry about.  All was well._

                Telling Henry about her mother’s stories had made Dawn homesick.  She’d been living with Emma in Boston for almost five months before Henry had come and whisked them away to Storybrooke.  Before that she had been at Oxford and it had been close to a year since she had seen the rest of her family.  On a whim, she stopped into Dark Star Pharmacy on her way back to the inn and picked up a couple dozen Storybrooke postcards. 

When she got back to her room, she flopped down on the queen sized bed with a sigh, rumpling the maroon comforter.  She kicked off her shoes and pulled the cards and a pen (purple was her color of the day) and began to write.  She enjoyed having some time to herself in her room to write out a personal message to each of her parents, siblings (including in-laws), nieces, and nephews.  It seemed like her life had been one adventure after another since Henry had come into her life just a few short days ago.

                She had just started the card to her sister Buffy when her cell phone rang.  She groaned dramtically and glanced down at the screen.  It was Emma.  “Wazzup, Ems?” she said.

                “Dawn, thank God,” said Emma, sounding frazzled.  “Please tell me you’re not doing anything that can’t wait til later.”

                “What’s up, Ems?” asked Dawn, flipping onto her back and letting her head hang off the end of her bed.

                “John Doe from the hospital—the one Henry wanted Mary-Margaret to read to—woke up and now he’s missing.  Can you help us track him down?”

                “Of course,” said Dawn, rolling off the bed and searching the floor for her purple converse.  “Pick me up?”

                “We’ll be there in three.”

                “Great,” she said.  “I’ll be ready.”  She paused as she rifled through the closet for a jacket.  “Not that I’m complaining, but why do you need my help?”

                “I need you to help me keep an eye on Mary-Margaret,” said Emma quietly.  “She’s insisting on coming—she thinks she’s responsible for the guy because she was the last one to see him before he went missing.  I’m worried she might wander off and get hurt while Graham and I look for clues.”

                Dawn rolled her eyes.  Emma was such a mother hen sometimes.  “Sure thing sis,” she said.  “One distraction girl at your service.  You almost here?”

                “We’re pulling into the drive now.”

                Dawn slammed and locked her door before she took off running down the stairs.  “Gimmie five seconds; I’m on my way down.”

 

                “Tell me again what happened?” asked Dawn, hugging her dark denim jacket closer to her body as she trudged through the woods with Emma, Mary-Margaret, and Graham.

                “I was reading to him out of Henry’s book and all of a sudden his hand moved,” explained Mary-Margaret.  “I decided to go back later and try again, but he was already gone when I got there.”

                “We looked at the security tapes from the hospital and it looks like he just up and left,” said Graham, crouching down and inspecting something on the ground.

                A sudden light shone on the group and Dawn whirled around, hand automatically falling to the pepper spray she kept in her jacket pocket.  “Henry,” she gasped when she saw who it was, “you scared me.”

                “What are you doing here?” asked Emma, looking less than pleased with the boy.

                “I want to help,” said Henry firmly, flashlight held up in one hand and the other clutched around the strap of his trusty backpack.

                “No,” said Emma firmly.

                “If you don’t let me come with you, I’ll just go off on my own,” insisted Henry.

                “Parental blackmail; nice,” said Dawn, high-fiving Henry.

                He grinned up at her.  “Thanks,” he said.

                “You are such a child, Dawn,” said Emma, clearly not happy, but realizing it was futile to argue.

 

                _Thomas was barely a year old when Queen Leah and King Stefan had their third child; a daughter named Aurora.  Giselle was more than prepared this time and took it upon herself to instruct her little brother in the fine art of being an older sibling.  “Now Thommy,” she said, sitting the chubby-cheeked blond boy down on his blue and red painted rocking chair, “there are a couple things you need to know about being a big brother.”_

_The little boy shoved his fist into his mouth and looked up at his big sister, innocent blue eyes wide.  “Haw,” he said, extending his slimy fist and making grabby hands towards Giselle’s red braids._

_“No, Thommy, listen to Ellie,” she said, lowering his fist and forcing him to look her in the eye (if there was one thing the siblings shared, it was their eyes).  “Now Thommy, Aurora’s just a tiny baby right now, so she can’t play with you like I can.  She won’t do much at all really til she gets bigger ‘cept cry a lot.  Do you know what that means?”  Thomas blinked slowly at her and gave her a gummy grin.  “That means we have ta look out for her and protect her til she can do things for herself.  You’re big enough now, Thommy, that you get to help me.  We’ll make sure she gets lots of hugs and cuddles and that she doesn’t cry while she’s sleeping.  We get to sing her songs and tickle her tummy and help Mama change her clothes.  I know you don’t know how to do any of that yet, but I’ll teach you.  You’re gonna be the best little-big brother ever!”_

_“Ewwie!” shrieked Thomas happily, gazing adoringly up at his big sister._

_“That’s right, Thommy,” said Giselle, smiling at him and giving him a big hug.  “Listen to Ellie; Ellie will teach you everything you need to know.  Rory’s the luckiest baby in the whole realm and do you know why?”_

_“Why?” asked the little prince, blue eyes wide and curious._

_“‘Cause she has_ us _as a big sister and brother an’ we’re gonna be the best there ever was!”_

“What story were you reading to him when he woke up?” Henry asked his teacher as they plodded along through the forest looking for signs of the wayward John Doe.

                “Why does it matter, Henry?” she asked, staring intently at the bloodied hospital band Graham had found.

                “It matters because he’ll go looking for something familiar,” said Dawn.  “Something that’s fresh on his mind, like that story you read to him.”

                “I-I read him the story in your book about Snow White and Prince Charming,” Mary-Margaret told Henry.   “I was reading about how they met and wound up fighting a bunch of trolls on an old bridge together.”

                “The Toll Bridge,” said Henry confidently.  “That’s where he’s headed.”

                Dawn pulled the boy back before he could race off after the others.  He looked up at her questioningly.  “Okay,” she said, “when this is done, you and me are gonna sit down together with that book of yours.  I have _got_ to read these stories!  They sound bloody fantastic!”

 

                _Giselle fidgeted restlessly.  She didn’t understand why they had to have their portrait painted_ now _.  Aurora was only three months old; surely they could wait until she was a little more_ interesting _.  Papa caught Giselle’s eyes as she shifted her slipper clad feet for the thousandth time and glared at her sternly until she went still.  Ever since Aurora’s christening ball (which Giselle and Thomas had_ not _been allowed to attend), the King and Queen had been on edge.  King Stefan was more short-tempered than usual and Queen Leah had become almost_ obsessed _with spending as much time together as a family as they could.  Giselle might have been only just six year old, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t feel the tension that wrapped around her parents like the arms of an octopus._

 _“Giselle,” snapped King Stefan finally as the little girl shifted her feet yet again and nearly toppled over, “if you don’t hold still we will be here for_ another _three hours and I don’t think_ any _of us would care to do that, do you?”_

_“No Papa, sorry Papa,” said Giselle, her voice small._

_“Stefan,” sighed Queen Leah, shifting her hold on baby Aurora and little Thomas, “she’s only a child.”_

_King Stefan closed his stormy blue eyes briefly and sighed.  He held up his hand, signaling the painter to stop, and knelt down in front of his eldest child.  “Giselle,” he said softly, “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to snap at you.”_

_Giselle shyly turned her azure eyes to her Papa’s face.  “It’s okay, Papa,” she said.  “My legs are just getting tired is all.”_

_King Stefan suddenly smirked mischievously and swept Giselle off the floor and up onto his broad shoulders, knocking his silver crown askew in the process.  The little girl shrieked with glee and clung tightly to her father’s sandy blonde hair.  “They’re getting tired are they?” he said.  “Well, come Giselle, let us set forth to the kitchens and fetch us some victuals to share.  We shall have a proper royal luncheon, just you and I, my darling princess.”_

_“To the kitchens!” cried Giselle, pointing with one hand, the other still securely fisted in her father’s hair, as they headed off down the castle corridors._

Dawn stood outside the hospital’s glass walled coma ward with Mary-Margaret, Emma, and Henry (her arm thrown across the shoulders of the latter) as they all watched Regina Mills reunite David Nolan (formerly known as John Doe) with his wife Kathryn.  “Gotta say,” said Dawn, “I did _not_ see that plot twist coming.”

                “I don’t understand,” said Henry, his face drooping with sadness.  “This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.”

                “Henry—” began Emma.

                “No.”  Henry cut her off and turned to his teacher.  “You’re the one he was searching for,” he told her.  “You two _belong_ together.”

                “Henry,” said Mary-Margaret, her voice thick with unshed tears, “she’s his _wife_.”

                “That’s just the curse,” insisted Henry.  “It’s keeping you two apart so you can’t have your happy ending.”

                “Don’t worry, squirt,” said Dawn, squeezing her nephew’s shoulder, “things that are truly meant to be have a way of working themselves out in the end.”  She glanced over and saw Regina exiting the glass room, a smug grin on her face.  “Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I have a bone or two to pick with a certain someone.”

                Emma had the same idea and the two sisters cornered the raven-haired woman before she could leave the waiting room.  “What are you playing at, Regina?” hissed the blonde, narrowing her green eyes at the mayor.  “You’ve been the guy’s emergency contact for _years_ and you only just now found his wife?”

                “I’m a very busy woman, Miss Swan,” she said smoothly.  “Sometimes things, people, slip through the cracks.”

                Dawn, standing next to Emma with her arms crossed over her chest, snorted and said, “Yeah, I’m not buying that shit.  You know more than you’re letting on, Madam Mayor.”

                Regina’s dark eyes narrowed at Dawn disdainfully.  “You may be Miss Swan’s ‘special friend,’ but that does not give you any right to butt into conversations that do not concern _you_ ,” she said, her voice sharp and biting.

                Dawn snorted again and wrinkled her nose in disgust.  “‘Special friend’ puhleeze.  Is that what you people think?”

                “Dawn’s my _sister_ ,” snapped Emma.  “She’s got _nothing_ to do with whatever issues you have with me, so _leave her alone_.”

                “Are you threatening me, Miss Swan?”

                “It’s Miss Philip, actually, and no.  That’s a promise, Regina.  You hurt my little sister and there will be no place on this earth or any other where you can hide from me.”

                A strange gleam came to Regina’s eyes; one that Dawn didn’t like and couldn’t quite read.  “Is that so?” she said softly, her voice edged with something dark and dangerous.

                Emma stepped forward until she was standing nose-to-nose with the older woman.  “That _is_ so, Madam Mayor.  You mess with Dawn, you mess with _me_.”

                “I’ll keep that in mind,” said Regina, smirking.  “Oh and, Miss Philip?” she added as she began to walk off.  “Something to keep in mind: Not having someone?  Well, that’s the worst curse imaginable.”

 

                Henry slid into the empty side of the booth across from Dawn later that same day.  “I brought the book,” he said, pulling the leather-bound treasure out of his backpack and setting it on the table between them.

                “Awesome sauce,” said Dawn, pulling the book over and starting to leaf through it.  “Dinner’s on me, so order whatever you want.”  She flipped through the pages carefully, looking for a certain face that she knew almost as well as her own.

                “Sweet,” said Henry, calling Ruby over to take his order.

                By the time their food arrived, Dawn had finally found what she was looking for in Henry’s book.  “Here squirt,” she said, sliding the open book across the table, “the tale of Giselle and Prince Edward of Andalasia.”  The right hand page was filled with a beautiful drawing of a handsome young man (with ridiculously large shoulder poofs on his shirt) holding hands with a delicate, red-haired maiden dressed in pink as they sat on a white horse.  “Make sure to follow up with the next story, Prince Edward’s Quest.  Once you’ve read them both, I’ll tell you my family’s big secret, okay?”

                Henry grinned and took a bite of his burger as he began to read.  “Wait—how’d you know these stories were in my book?” he asked suddenly, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

                “I just guessed, really,” admitted Dawn, doctoring her lasagna until it met the approval of her odd taste buds.  “Some of the stories you told me matched up with parts of my mom’s stories, so I thought it was a safe bet that they’d be in there as well.”

                “How’d your mom know the stories in my book?”

                “Just read the stories kid,” said Dawn, savoring a bite of her pickle, tabasco, and onion ring lasagna.  “You’re a smart kid; you’ll figure it out.”

 

                _Giselle loved being a mother.  She loved the sweet smiles and gentle hugs that her children bestowed upon her and she wouldn’t trade a single one of them for anything in the world.  She cradled her brand new daughter in her arms, running one gentle hand across the soft tufts of chocolate brown hair on her head.  Dawn was only a few hours old and already Giselle was smitten with the small, perfect child.  For all the children she and Robert had, it was a rarity that they got to enjoy them at this young of an age.  But Dawn was hers; hers and Robert’s in every way imaginable.  She had her father’s dark hair and her mother’s pale complexion and delicate features.  She was perfect in every possible way._

_Unbidden, a memory of another small girl, named too for the dawn, came to Giselle as she memorized every feature of her youngest child.  She vaguely remembered a baby with hair the color of rose gold and wide, curious eyes.  She remembered padding on tiny feet, leading a toddling blonde boy by the hand as they snuck into a nursery to see the little baby.  She had vague flashes of playing peek-a-boo with both little ones, teaching the boy how to make the infant (a sister!) laugh and coo in delight.  She recalled a picnic in a meadow, the sun shining bright and warm on the family of five: a golden father, stern but loving; a fiery mother, soft and kind; a princess, a redheaded ball of sunshine, joyful and exuberant; a small prince, as golden as his father, inquisitive and smiling; and the littlest princess, a wide-eyed, laughing vision of the rosy dawn._

_Giselle’s breath hitched and she tightened her hold on the precious bundle in her arms.  She’d long thought the memories of her family lost.  Her time before the lonely cottage in Andalasia (accompanied as a child by a stern, distant guardian fairy) was mostly lost in the haze of time.  How ironic, that the very day her Dawn was born, she would remember the sister who shared the same name.  How long had it been since she’d remembered any of them?  She’d had dreams, flashes of vibrant red curls and sad blue eyes, her entire life, but only now were these images falling into place._

_“Giselle?” asked Robert softly, laying a gentle hand on his wife’s shoulder.  “Are you alright?”_

_Her eyes focused on her husband, his presence grounding her and reminding her of where she was.  “Yes, I think so,” she replied.  “I was just a bit lost in my own head for a moment there.”_

_Robert smiled.  “Were they happy thoughts, at least?” he asked._

_Giselle paused.  “Well, yes, I suppose they were,” she said, surprising herself with the answer.  “They were memories,” she continued, “memories of I time I had thought long forgotten.”_

_Robert sat down on the hard plastic chair next to her hospital bed and placed his hand on their daughter’s head, stroking her wispy hair.  “Tell me?” he asked, staring at her with such love and devotion that she just wanted to melt._

_“I remembered my family,” she said quietly, not wishing to wake the sleeping infant in her arms.  “I remembered my mother and father, a brother and a sister as well.  I didn’t always live in the forest in Andalasia.  I think I lived in a castle before that, but I was very small when I had to leave.”_

_“What happened?” asked Robert gently._

_“I-I think there was something—someone— bad after my family,” she said, closing her eyes and trying to call up the memory from the fog of her past.  “I remember red hair and sad eyes; I think my mother didn’t want to let me go, but she had to, to protect me.”_

_“Do you have any happy memories of them, Giselle?” asked Robert, twining his fingers into her sweaty red curls and tugging gently._

_“M-my little brother,” she said slowly, “he was always following me around like a little puppy-dog and I loved every minute of it.  He was mine to love and protect and teach.  I remember showing him how to be good to our baby sister.  I don’t think she was more than a few months old the last time I saw her.”  She lifted her azure eyes to gaze at Robert and smiled.  “I didn’t realize it at the time, but Dawn’s name means something more to me than just my favorite time of day.”_

_Robert cocked his head in question.  “What do you mean by that?” he asked._

_“Most of what I remember of my family is bits and pieces, moments that stand out in the haze of my memory.  I don’t really remember any specifics, names or ages or places, except one.”_

_“What’s that, darling?”_

_“My sister’s name,” said Giselle._

_“What was her name?” asked Robert, locking his dark eyes on her._

_Giselle gazed lovingly down at their daughter and stroked her cheek.  “Her name,” she said with a smile, “was Aurora.”_


	4. Baby Mine (Don't You Cry)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dawn helps out a new friend and Nancy and Edward have an heir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I'm pretty proud of the flashbacks in this chapter; I really got into it while I was writing them. I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)
> 
> AN2: I started writing this before I saw the latest couple episodes of Season 4. Once I saw the episode with more of Maleficent's backstory, I tried to add a few things to keep my story closer to cannon, but it's still going to be slightly different (obviously).

** Chapter 4: Baby Mine (Don’t You Cry) **

****

                _“Oh my darling Nancy, he is absolutely perfect.”_

_Nancy smiled tiredly at her exuberant husband, her raven hair damp with sweat.  “He is,” she said.  “We did good, Eddie.  Do we have a name for him yet?”_

_Edward, King of Andalasia, smiled down at the tiny purple wrapped bundle in his arms.  The baby boy had his mother’s raven locks and his father’s strong chin; the proud papa secretly hoped he would have his mother’s warm, brown eyes as well.  “I know we discussed naming him after my father,” he said, “but I think he deserves a name that is all his own.”_

_“What do you suggest?” asked Edward’s queen._

_Edward stroked the baby’s soft cheek.  “Chance,” he said.  “I know it is unusual, but he is our brand new chance for our family and our kingdom to become something far greater than we ever have been before.”_

_Nancy smiled brilliantly.  “I love it,” she said.  “Prince Chance of Andalasia.”_

_“May he be as rich in love as we are,” said Edward._

_“With us as his parents?” said Nancy.  “How could he be anything else?”_

                “Are you alright?”  It had come out far more gentle than she’d intended, but there was just something about the pregnant blonde maid that triggered Dawn’s protective instincts.

                The teary eyed teen sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her arm.  “I’m sorry,” she said wetly, “I’ve just been having a rough day.”

                Dawn set her basket of laundry on the floor by the washer (why the laundry room was attached to the diner rather than the inn was a mystery she was determined to solve…at a later date) and pulled the younger blonde into a half hug.  “Hey,” she said quietly, “it’s okay.  Everyone’s allowed to cry over a crap day every now and again.”  She began to rub soothing circles on the girl’s back, just like she’d seen her mother do with every single one of her pregnant sisters, in-laws included.

                It worked like a charm.  The blonde’s breathing began to even out and she finally stopped shaking.  “Thank you,” she said, her voice grateful and a little embarrassed.

                “You’re welcome,” said Dawn, giving her shoulder a squeeze as she pulled away.  “I’m Dawn by the way.”

                “Ashley,” replied the girl, a small smile on her tired face.  “I’m sorry for freaking out on you.”

                “No big,” said Dawn with a shrug.  “Not the first time it’s happened, probably not the last either.”  She grabbed the edges of the counter and pulled her skinny butt up onto it.  “You wanna talk about it?” she asked.  “I know I’m a total stranger, but I’ve been told I’m a great listener and since I don’t know you, I promise not to judge.”

                Ashley gave a little hiccupping cough.  “I think that’s all people do when they see me,” she said.

                “What do you mean by that?” asked Dawn.

                “Everyone says I’m a failure and they’re right,” she said sadly.  “I can barely take care of myself, never mind a baby.”

                “Sounds like people only see what they want, not what you _are_ ,” said Dawn.  “Do _you_ think you’re a failure?”

                “Would I have gotten into this mess if I wasn’t?” sobbed Ashley.

                “Yes,” said Dawn firmly.  “Now, I’m no councilor—I tend to leave the touchy-feely psychobabble stuff to my brother and sister who _are_ —but I do know that getting pregnant at your age—what, eighteen, nineteen?—isn’t the end of the world.  It doesn’t mean you’re a failure either.  It’s all in how you _deal_ with the shit life hands you, not so much how you get there.  ‘Sides, it takes two to tango.  Where’s the proud papa in all this?”

                “He-he’s not around,” admitted Ashley.  “His father won’t let him.”

                Dawn furrowed her brow quizzically.  “Why does his _father_ get a say in this?” she asked.  “He’s not underage, is he?”

                “No, he’s a year older than me,” said Ashley.  “Sean’s father is the one who set up my deal with Mr. Gold.”

                “I think you need to back up a step or three,” said Dawn.  “What deal are you talking about?”

                “The deal Mr. Herman made with Mr. Gold; he gets my baby when she’s born in exchange for a sum of money he arranged for me, and Sean’s name gets kept out of it.”

Dawn frowned.  “That hardly seems fair—or legal.  How did he even get that legitimized?”

Ashley shrugged.  “It’s Mr. Gold.  He owns the town, so he pretty much gets whatever he wants and no one’s really brave enough to question him.”

“Hmm,” said Dawn thoughtfully, “I’ll have to see what I can do about that then…”

 

Dawn stuck a do-not-disturb sign on her door at the inn, locked the door, and closed all the curtains tight.  After making sure that no one could peer in or out of the windows, she stuffed towels into the crack under the door, blocking out all natural light.  Nodding once in satisfaction, she took a deep breath of preparation.  “Okay Dawn,” she said to herself, “you can do this.  You’ve practiced this with Willow and Giles more times than you can count; there’s absolutely no reason for this _not_ to work.”  She stood tall in the emptiest part of the room and pricked her finger with a small dagger.  Once the blood had welled up on the cut, she flicked it into the air.  “Charles and Winifred Philip,” she said clearly.  The blood shimmered green in the air and began to glow and swirl until it formed a roughly Dawn-sized portal.  Dawn braced herself and stepped through.

She was greeted on the other side by a cacophony of noise better suited to a zoo than a home.  That was probably why no one had noticed her yet, mused Dawn.  She’d landed in the living room of her brother’s LA apartment.  The man in question (a tall, bald man with cocoa colored skin) was holding the Wii remotes hostage from his identical twin sons, who were bickering up a storm and wrestling in front of the TV.  His frazzled wife (a skinny, tall, bird-like brunette) was attempting to moderate the fight between their eldest daughter and son while balancing a crying baby girl on her hip.  Dawn smiled and nibbled absently at the cut on her finger to keep the portal open.  There was something incredibly endearing about the chaos of her brother Charles’ family.

“Hey Charlie-Gunn, what’s a girl gotta do to get some attention ‘round here?” she said, smirking at the comical wide-eyed expression on her older brother’s face.

“Auntie Dawn!” shrieked the elder four children, abandoning their arguments to nearly bowl her over with their enthusiastic hugs.

“Hey kiddos,” she said, bending down to hug the four small children.  “How’s it hangin’?”

Immediately she was bombarded with stories from all sides, shrill little voices fighting each other for dominance.  “That’s enough, y’all,” said Dawn’s sister-in-law, handing the baby over to her husband and embracing Dawn.  “It’s great to see you, Dawn,” she said, her Texan drawl thick as ever.

“You too, Fred,” she replied, smiling at the twig-like brunette fondly.

“Not that it’s not great to see you, Dawnster, but what brings you by via portal?” asked Charles (who had gone by his middle/former last name Gunn since childhood), the baby firmly settled on his hip.

“I was actually hoping for a favor, Gunn,” she said.

“What kind of favor?” asked Gunn warily.  “You ain’t in trouble with the law, are you?”

Dawn snorted.  “Nothing so dramatic, Charlie-Gunn.  And no, I’m not pregnant either,” she added when Gunn opened his mouth.

“Is it Emma?” asked Fred, shooing the older children off to their rooms.

“No, Emma’s fine,” said Dawn, taking baby Amy from her brother and running her long fingers through the girl’s course, black curls.  “Did you guys get by postcards yet?”

“The ‘Greetings from Storybrooke’ ones?” asked Gunn, raising an eyebrow.  “Yeah, the kids loved ‘em.”

“What’re you and Emma doing in Maine, anyway?” asked Fred.  “I thought y’all were livin’ in Boston.”

“We were,” said Dawn, “but then Henry came along and everything changed.”

“Henry?” said Gunn.  “Who’s Henry?”

“Emma’s son.”

 

_While the wedding of Prince Edward of Andalasia and his mysterious princess had been abrupt and secretive, the coronation of the young couple was planned down to the last little detail.  Invitations were sent to every kingdom across the lands and the responses were overwhelmingly positive.  Some offered simple, heartfelt congratulations; others promised continued trade and friendship; others still presented offers of new alliances._

_When the day finally arrived, the newly crowned Queen Nancy was pleased to find that most everyone who had responded had come, from the stately Dowager Empress of the vast Romanov Empire to the newlywed Prince and Princess of faraway Maldonia.  King Edward and Queen Nancy sat on the Andalasian thrones and received all their guests with grace and dignity._

_That dignity nearly slipped when the royal family of the combined kingdoms of Fairway and Aquitaine were introduced.  The Andalasian steward, Joran (a distant cousin of Nathanial) announced the visiting royals with his usual pomp: “Presenting their Royal Majesties, Queen Leah of Fairway and King Stefan of Aquitaine, and their Royal Highnesses, Prince Thomas of Aquitaine and Princess Aurora of Fairway.”_

_The Queen of Fairway was a tall, fair beauty with curls the color of blood and eyes the color of the noonday sky.  The King of Aquitaine too was tall; he was obviously a warrior bred, by his build and stance.  His cropped hair was a sandy blonde color akin to wheat and his eyes were the blue of a winter storm.  The teenage prince looked much like his father, only shorter and leaner.  It was the young princess, a maiden just into her teen years, who gave Nancy and Edward pause.  Everything about the princess, from her rose gold curls to the sky blue eyes she shared with her mother screamed of familiarity.  It wasn’t just her features, either, that bred such familiarity to the Andalasian monarchs; there was something in the way that she held herself, the tilt of her chin, her shy smile…_

_“I’m terribly sorry,” said Edward, “but your fair Princess Aurora is terribly familiar to me.  Do you perhaps know of an equally fair maiden called Giselle?”_

_Queen Leah gasped, her delicate hands flying to cover her red painted lips.  “You know our Giselle?” asked King Stefan, placing a large, comforting hand around his wife’s shoulders._

_“Yes, I have known a beautiful maiden by that name,” said Edward.  “One who greatly resembles your lovely daughter, Princess Aurora.”_

_Queen Leah let out a strangled sob.  “Please,” she said, her voice light and bright as a bell, “what news have you of our eldest daughter?”_

Dawn tried to act surprised (really, she did) when Gunn and Fred walked into Granny’s Diner with their five kids the morning after her impromptu portal traveling.  Emma, sitting across the booth from her, clearly wasn’t buying her act.  “You called him, didn’t you?” she accused, her eyes narrowing crossly.

Dawn made her eyes go as wide and innocent as she could.  “Whatever are you talking about, sister dear?” she said, fighting to keep her face smirk-free.

Emma rolled her eyes.  “Please, I haven’t bought your ‘innocent eyes’ act since you were twelve,” the blonde said dryly.

“If it ain’t Em’n’Em and the Dawnster,” Gunn said brightly, sliding into the booth beside Dawn.  “I was hopin’ we’d catch you before we got settled in.”

Emma fixed her brother with a cold glare.  “Why are you here, Charles?” she snapped.

Gunn winced.  “Damn, girl, first name an’ everything.  Can’t a brother just stop by to visit his sisters?”

“No,” said Emma shortly.

Gunn huffed and smiled winningly at his most difficult sister.  “Fine,” he admitted, “you caught me.  Dawn asked me to come.  Said she needed my professional help with a pregnant girl who changed her mind about givin’ up her baby.”

Emma gave Dawn an exasperated look.  “Do I even _want_ to know how you got your information, Dawn?” she asked.

Dawn frowned into her morning hot chocolate (spiced with red-hots).  “Why do you always assume the worst of people?” she snapped back.  “Maybe I just made a new friend.”

Emma gave her sister a disbelieving look before glancing over at the counter, where the scantily-clad Ruby had just arrived for her shift.  “We’ll continue this later,” she promised, standing up and walking toward Ruby without so much as a goodbye to her siblings.

“Who spit in her cocoa?” asked Gunn.

“She’s been like that since Henry dragged us to Storybrooke,” said Dawn, sipping on her cooling cocoa.  “I think she’s still trying to deny that she’s got an actual, real-live kid of her own.”

Gunn nodded thoughtfully.  “It was easier for her to pretend she didn’t have a kid when he was just someone she’d given birth to and then given away.  Now that he’s in her life…”

“Shit got real?” suggested Dawn with a quirk of her pale pink lips.

“Shit got real,” agreed Gunn, matching her smile with one of his own.  “And we _all_ know how much Emma likes her view of reality getting’ turned on its head.”

Dawn cocked her head to the side thoughtfully.  “You know,” she said, “sometimes I forget how smart and insightful you really are.”

Gunn grinned and swatted his baby sister’s arm playfully.  “Girl, you’re makin’ me blush.  Ain’t nobody got time for dat.”

“And then you go and prove you're actually a six-year-old boy,” said Dawn dryly.

 

_The day after their coronation ball, Nancy and Edward met with the monarchs of Fairway-Aquitaine in the private of Edward’s late father’s study.  Barely had the royals taken their seats when Queen Leah spoke.  “What can you tell us of our daughter?” she asked._

_“Giselle is a maiden of great beauty and kindness, with the voice of an angel,” said Edward.  “She is headstrong, brave, and wise.  I had thought I was her One True Love once, before I met my Nancy, but it was not to be.”_

_“His name is Robert,” added Nancy.  “I was to marry him, once, but when Giselle came into his life, everything changed.  She brought out a side to him I had never seen; he was carefree and relaxed around her in ways that he never was with me.  He has a young daughter as well and she simply adores Giselle, as much as Giselle adores her.”_

_“Where is our daughter now, King Edward?” asked King Stefan._

_“She resides in another realm now, I’m sorry to say,” he said.  “Nancy chose to come to Andalasia with me when our quest had ended, but Giselle chose to stay in the land of New York with her love.”_

_“She’s happy there,” Nancy assured the saddened parents.  “It is a place very different from this land, but she is not alone there.”_

_“She is loved?” asked Queen Leah softly.  “She is happy?”_

_“Very much,” said Edward.  “Robert woke her from the sleeping curse my step-mother had placed her under when my kisses had failed.”_

_Queen Leah put her hand on Edward’s arm.  “Thank you,” she said, “for telling us of our daughter’s fate.”_

_“Yes, we are glad to hear she has found her happiness, even if it is in a realm far from us,” added King Stefan._

_“Who knows?” said Nancy gently.  “Maybe someday you will see her again.”_

Five minutes after Emma left the diner, Dawn spotted Ashley sneaking out of the alley that ran along the side of the diner toward Ruby’s car.  She nudged Gunn and nodded her head in the pregnant blonde’s general direction.  “Got it,” her brother said.  He slid smoothly out of the booth and headed out to meet the girl.

Dawn, seeing Ruby about to interfere, jumped up and gently tugged the slightly younger brunette’s arm.  “Let him go, Ruby,” she said.  “Charles is my brother.  I called him in to _help_ Ashley.  He’s a social worker and a dad, so I figure he’s pretty qualified.”

“Is he gonna tell her to give up her baby like everyone else?” asked Ruby, sounding a bit bitter.

“Hell no,” said Dawn, snorting.  “He’ll tell her her options and maybe some parenting horror stories, but he rarely tells a mom she should just give up her baby.  ‘Sides, he works with kids _way_ more troubled than Ashley all the time.”

“Really?”  Ruby sounded almost convinced.

“He works specifically with poor, underprivileged kids—usually homeless or orphans—in one of the nastier neighborhoods in downtown LA.”

Ruby looked at least somewhat convinced as Leroy started heckling her for coffee from his seat at the counter.  “Fine,” she said, finally relenting, “but if anything happens to her, you’ll answer to _me_.”

“Got it,” said Dawn.

Ten minutes later, when Gunn came back in, Dawn was sitting in her booth with Fred and the kids.  “You havin’ a party without me?” said Gunn, sliding in beside his wife and giving her a kiss.

“Always,” said Dawn.  “How’d it go?”

Gunn shrugged.  “She listened to me, that’s a start,” he said.  “Things like this don’t magically fix themselves overnight, Dawnster.  This ain’t one of Mom’s fairytales.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” said Dawn cryptically.

 

_The long awaited Christening of Prince Chance of Andalasia had finally arrived.  After two years of royal balls, Queen Nancy now considered herself something of a budding expert on political intrigue and relations in the Enchanted Forest.  Many of the faces had remained the same over the years, though there were a few notable exceptions.  The Dowager Empress of the Romanov Empire rarely left her palace anymore, preferring to send her granddaughter, Princess Anastasia, and her Prince Consort Dimitri in her stead and there had been a fair spattering of royal children born in those two years, but most everything else remained the same.  Perhaps it was foolish of Andalasia’s queen to grow so comfortably complacent, but grow so she did._

_Andalasia might have been spared the Dark Curse were it not for Queen Nancy’s complacency.  In all the hustle and bustle of the Christening preparations, one single invitation fell to the floor, lost and forgotten: the invitation for one Queen Regina of Alba, niece of the late Queen Narissa, and a powerful practitioner of dark magic.  Honest mistake it might have been on Nancy’s part, but when Regina found out she had been snubbed, she was_ livid _._

_“You didn’t really want to go to your step-great-nephew’s Christening, though,” Regina’s father, the former Prince Henry of Marseilles, said in an attempt to pacify his hotheaded daughter._

_“Of course not, Daddy,” snapped Regina, her dark skirts swirling about her ankles as she paced agitatedly across her chambers._

_“Then you will let this be?”_

_“And let others believe me_ weak _?  I think not,” she scoffed.  “Besides_ King _Edward still has to answer for Aunt Narissa’s disappearance.  No, I_ will _go to the Christening and those Andalasian monarchs will_ rue _the day they chose to snub the Evil Queen.”_

Dawn waved Henry over to her booth when he stopped by after school.  “Hey, squirt,” she said when he sat down across from her.  “I’d like you to meet my niece and nephew.”

“I’m Casey,” said the tan skinned, curly haired brunette girl sitting next to Henry.  “That’s Ben; he’s seven,” she added, pointing to the gangly, mocha skinned boy next to Dawn.  “Aunt Dawn says you’re in fourth grade, right?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s right.”

Casey smiled brightly at him.  “Me too!  Mom’s letting me sit in on some of her Physics classes as UCLA this year too.  I don’t understand _all_ of it yet, but Mom says I already know more than most of her newbies!  Do you like science?”

“Casey,” said Dawn, “what did we talk about?”

“What?  Oh, right, no scaring off or boring cousins and aunties with science talk.  Sorry.”  At least she _tried_ to look contrite, which was more than her parents usually got out of her.

“Sorry Henry.  Their mom’s putting the twins and the baby down for a nap and their dad—my brother—is out trying to help Ashley, so I got put on babysitting duty.”

“‘M not a baby,” mumbled Ben crossly, slouching down in his seat and picking at the skin of his thumb.

“‘Course not, champ,” said Dawn cheerfully.  “If you were, you’d be going down for a nap with the twins and Amy.”

“Luke an’ Logan an’ Amy are _babies_ ,” Ben insisted.  “Can’t you just call it kid-sitting or something?”

“Sure, I’ll just send out a memo,” said Dawn dryly.

“Thanks,” said Ben, brightening up a bit.

“That was sarcasm, genius,” said Casey, rolling her caramel eyes at her brother.

“So Dawn,” said Henry as the siblings started bickering, “how goes the Cinderella situation?”

“Cinderella?”  Dawn looked confused for a moment.  “Oh!  You mean Ashley?”

“Of course,” said Henry matter-of-factly.  “She’s a maid with a disproving step-mother and two spoiled step-sisters.  Who _else_ would she be?”

“Right.  Well, Ruby sent Emma off to find Ashley’s ex so that she could get outta dodge.  Gunn—my brother—”

“Your brother’s name is Gunn?” asked Henry curiously.

“Well, it’s Charles Gunn Philip, but he’s been going by Gunn—which used to be his last name—since he was a street kid, back before our parents adopted him and Alonna.  Anyway, Gunn talked to Ashley before she ran off and now he’s off getting ahold of his contacts who might be able to help him break Gold’s contract.”

“No one breaks a contract with Mr. Gold,” Henry insisted.  “Everyone knows that.”

“So I’ve heard,” said Dawn, swiping an onion ring from her still-bickering niece’s plate.  “If anyone can find a way out for Ashley, it’s Gunn.  He’s got the smarts and the street smarts to pull off the impossible.  That and he’s impossibly stubborn and belligerent when he believes in one of his ‘kids’—and he’s already decided that Ashley falls into that category.  Don’t worry, squirt, Gunn’ll fix everything; you’ll see.”  She swiped a fry from Ben’s plate and offered it to Henry.  “French fry?”

Henry grinned and took it.  “Don’t mind if I do.”

 

_“He’s beautiful,” said Queen Leah, allowing the tiny boy to grab at her loose, red curls._

_“He has your eyes, Edward,” said King Stefan, watching his wife coo over the babe with a wistful expression on his face._

_“Aye, but he has my Nancy’s nose and my father’s ears,” said Edward proudly._

_“Have you selected a godparent for him yet?” asked Princess Aurora, now seventeen, her voice soft and sweet._

_Nancy and Edward shared a glance.  “We have,” said Edward._

_“Aurora,” said Nancy, turning to the rosy young woman, “would you do us the honor of being godmother to our son, Prince Chance?”_

_“Me?” asked the redheaded teen, bewildered._

_“Yes, you,” said Edward.  “We would have no other.”_

_“I-I’m honored,” she said softly, her blue eyes shining brightly with happy tears.  “Of course I will be Chance’s godmother.:_

_“How disgustingly touching,” sneered a cold, sinister voice.  “And to think I nearly missed this.”  Queen Regina, as always, cut an intimidating picture in her low-cut, black silk and brocade gown with its ridiculously high collar, blood red lips, and black hair piled mile-high on top of her head._

_“Queen Regina,” said Edward, “how lovely to see you again.”_

_“Yes, I’m sure,” Regina sneered, glancing around at the assembled royals until her eyes dark eyes alighted upon the baby prince.  ‘So this is the little monster,” she drawled.  “He doesn’t look like much, does he?”_

_Nancy reached into the cradle and pulled her son close to her chest.  Edward’s hand twitched toward his sword.  “Touch but one hair on his head and I swear it shall be the last thing you_ ever _do,” he snarled._

 _“Please,” scoffed Regina, waving her hand casually and freezing the raging father in place, “you are_ useless _, Edward son of Luka, just as my aunt told me.  Speaking of, where_ is _my dear Aunt Narissa these days?  I’ve just been_ dying _to see her again.”_

_Nancy started at Regina’s choice of words and Edward narrowed his eyes.  “The former Queen Narissa is dead,” he snapped, “slain by the brave and fair Princess Giselle.”_

_“Is that so?” said Regina, her voice eerily calm.  “Who, pray tell, is this Princess Giselle you claim is responsible for the death of my kinswoman?”_

_King Stefan stepped forward bravely, his strong jaw set and his stormy eyes flashing dangerously.  “Princess Giselle is our beloved eldest,” he said, his voice deep and strong.  “She is safe, far from here, where you and yours shall never again do her harm.”_

_Regina smirked.  “So this_ Giselle _is the spawn of Stefan and Briar Rose?” she said.  “How sickeningly appropriate.”  She turned to face Queen Leah (who, in her youth, had been called Briar Rose for her hair and her temperament).  “You thought to save your eldest from the fate of your youngest and so you hid her away in the lonesome forests of Andalasia.  How_ noble _,” she sneered._

 _“I did what I did out of love for_ all _my children,” said Queen Leah proudly, lifting her chin and looking the Evil Queen dead in the eye.  “Have you fallen so far, Regina, that you’ve forgotten what love is?”_

_“Love is weakness,” hissed Regina, “a fairytale for children, nothing more.”_

_“You’re wrong,” spoke Aurora softly, inching closer to Nancy and baby Chance, her godson.  “Love is beautiful and powerful, indiscriminate and unselfish.  ‘Love is patient, love is kind, it does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.’”  Her voice grew stronger as she continued on, “‘It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no records of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  Love never fails.’” (1Corinthians 13:4-8)_

_Regina laughed, full-bodied and powerful.  “Foolish girl,” she said, “love brings only pain and suffering.  Better you learn this now when you are still young that later, when your heart is broken for want of some foolish emotion.”_

_She smiled evilly at the assembled royals: strong and proud King Stefan; silent and determined Prince Thomas (ever his father’s shadow); flighty and passionate King Edward; fierce and protective Queen Nancy with her small son; brave and kind Princess Aurora; and fiery and loving Queen Leah (once called Briar Rose).  Regina’s cold gaze lingered on the redheaded queen.  “What better way to teach a young, naïve girl, such as yourself, the follies of love that through the one whom she loves above all,” she said.  “How fitting that Maleficent’s greatest failure should have spawned the murderer of my beloved Aunt.”  She conjured up a fireball in her hand.  “Love is dead,” she sneered, launching the fireball at Queen Leah._

_“No!” shrieked the young prince and princess, rushing forward as their mother crumpled to the marble floor.  Regina laughed manically and left in a puff of purple smoke._

_King Stefan moved in a daze as he bent to check his beloved wife’s pulse.  “The Queen is dead,” he said, his strong voice in opposition to the hurt in his heart.  He gently slipped the golden crown from atop her soft curls and kissed her brow._

_He straightened and stared at his youngest, offering the crown to her.  With pale, trembling hands, the seventeen-year-old took it and placed it upon her rose gold curls.  “Long live the Queen,” said King Stefan, his eyes alight with sadness and pride.  “May your reign be long and prosperous.”_

Dawn pretended not to notice when Henry snuck off with Emma after she came back from talking to Ashley’s ex-boyfriend Sean.  Instead, she dropped Casey and Ben (still bickering) off with their mother at the inn and headed off to the Sheriff’s Station to see if Graham was in.

“Hello?” she called out as she entered the building.

“Dawn?” said Graham, poking his head out of his office.  “What brings you by?”

Dawn shrugged as she stepped further into the room.  “I just thought I’d stop by and see you,” she said.

Graham grinned as he shut his office door behind him.  “Well, you’re in luck,” he said.  “I was just about to lock up for the night.  Could I interest you in dinner?”

Dawn glanced up at the clock on the wall and raised her eyebrow at the brunette sheriff.  “Isn’t it a little early for dinner?” she asked.

Graham grinned.  “Well, I could always take you on a proper tour of Storybrooke first,” he offered.

Dawn smiled and took Graham by the elbow.  “That sounds perfect, Graham,” she said.

“Great,” he replied, smile widening.  “Just let me lock up first and we can get going.”

 

“…and that was how Gunn and Nick had the twins convinced that babies grow in flowerpots.”

Graham was practically doubled over with laughter.  “They—believed—that?” he asked between gasps of breath.

Dawn shrugged, smirking at the memory.  “They were ten,” she elaborated.  “It wasn’t ‘til our oldest sister was pregnant with her first kid that they realized that the boys were messing with them.”

“That’s priceless,” said Graham, still gasping for breath.

“That’s my brothers,” said Dawn with a smile.  “They love picking on all of us, but especially the twins ‘cause Xander’s the only other boy and he and Willow are thick as thieves.”

“It must be nice having so many siblings,” said Graham, finally calming down.  “You seem close.”

Dawn shrugged.  “We are,” she said, “but sometimes—most of the time—we annoy the crap out of each other.  The twins and Buffy are really the only ones who get along consistently since Alonna died.”

“What about Emma?”

“Emma’s always been kind of a loner,” Dawn admitted.  “She great with kids, though.  We always wondered why she decided to give Henry up.”

Graham nodded thoughtfully.  “I’m thinking of asking her to be my deputy,” he admitted.  “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Dawn smiled.  “I think it’s a wonderful idea,” she said.  “It’ll give her a reason to stay in Storybrooke, for sure.”

“And you?” he asked, boldly reaching out to hold Dawn’s hand.  “Do you have a reason to stay?”

Dawn smiled brightly at him.  “I can think of one or two.”

 

_“Edward!  It’s coming!”  Nancy raced across the palace gardens, hitching her skirts up to her knees to give her legs stride.  She nearly crashed into her husband as she came to an abrupt stop.  “The curse is almost here!” she gasped as he held her steady._

_Edward’s brow furrowed and he hitched their small, two-year-old son on his hip.  “I had hoped we would have more time,” he said, azure eyes sad._

_Nancy laid her head on her husband’s strong chest and ran her fingers through their son’s raven curls.  “What are we to do, Edward?  What will become of us?” she asked, tears falling from eyes of chocolate brown._

_Edward pulled his wife and son close, burying their faces into his strong shoulders so that they would not have to see their doom crash upon them.  “We stay together, my love, and pray for the best,” he said, watching as the great cloud of purple began to overtake the gardens and eventually swallowed them whole._

Dawn knocked on the hospital door, catching Ashley’s attention.  “Hey,” she said.  “I heard you had your baby; congratulations.”

“Thanks,” said Ashley tiredly.  “Her name is Alexandra.”

Dawn stepped closer and smiled at the small, pink-wrapped bundle.  “She has your hair,” she said.

“I think she’ll have Sean’s eyes,” said Ashley.  “I meant to thank you for calling in your brother,” she said, looking up at Dawn.  “He’s really helped me figure out how to make this mother thing work.”  I guess I really owe your whole family.”

“How so?” asked Dawn.

“Your sister got me out of Mr. Gold’s contract, your brother’s getting me help so I can take care of my baby, and you keep coming back and letting me talk you ear off.”

“Well, that’s what friends do,” said Dawn, smiling softly at the new mother.

“Are we?” asked Ashley.  “Friends?”

“I’d like to be,” admitted Dawn.

“Then we are,” said Ashley.  “As my friend, would you like to be Alexandra’s godmother?”

Dawn started at the sincerity in her eyes.  “I’d love too,” she said.  “Are you sure?”

“I’ve only known you a couple of days, but you’ve already done more for me than most people I’ve known for my whole life.  I can’t think of anyone better suited for the job.”

“Then I am truly honored.”

“Would you like to hold her?”

Dawn took the small blonde bundle into her arms.  “Hello little Lexie, I’m your Auntie Dawn,” she said.  “I have some wonderful stories to tell you about brave princesses and handsome princes and their many wonderful adventures…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I've given the kingdoms all names, mostly because it's always annoyed me how none of the many kingdoms of the Enchanted Forest are named. Just Arendelle, the Southern Isles (which aren't technically part of the EF), and Camelot (never shown) are called by name. If you are at all confused or interested, let me know and I'll fill you in.
> 
> AN2: I'm not a counselor or a social worker; I have no background in either. The most I've ever done that might be remotely close is a couple classes in college psychology. I'm sorry if my portrayal of Gunn as such is not completely accurate; I tried.
> 
> If you enjoy reading my story, please leave a comment or kudos.
> 
> (Flames may cause me to hide in a corner and cry.)


	5. Fate Steps In (And Sees You Through)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dawn learns magic in Sunnydale and puts it to use years later in Storybrooke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I know that I said that Buffy events took place in NY rather than Sunnydale, but as this chapter can attest, I changed my mind. The Philip family moved to Sunnydale (to be closer to LA while Giselle opened up a new branch of her Andalasia Fashions) in 1997 just like in Season 1 of Buffy and many events panned out the same right up til the end of the series. Most will not be important. Let's just blame this on artistic license. ;)
> 
> Disclaimer: This chapter contains direct quotes from BtVS Season 1, Episode 1: "Welcome to the Hellmouth" and Season 6, Episode 7: "Once More, With Feeling"-I OWN NOTHING!

** Chapter 5: Fate Steps In (And Sees You Through) **

****

_Dawn let out a high pitched yelp of surprise as she was yanked down behind the tall bookshelf.  “Shh,” hissed her twelve-year-old sister Alonna, violently slapping her hand over Dawn’s mouth.  “Do you_ want _to get us caught?”  Dawn shook her head.  “That’s what I thought,” said the curly haired brunette, removing her hand._

_“What’s going on?” asked Dawn quietly.  “I saw Buffy out there talking to the librarian—I didn’t know she even knows what a library_ is _.”_

_“Shh,” Alonna shushed the ten-year-old, nodding her head to where their older sister Buffy was talking with the school librarian, an older British gentleman._

_“You really have no idea what’s going on, do you?” he said to the tiny, blonde sixteen-year-old.  “You think it’s coincidence your being here?  That boy was just the beginning.”_

_“Why can’t you people just leave me alone?” snapped Buffy, sounding irritated._

_“Because you are the Slayer,” said the librarian adamantly.  “To each generation a Slayer is born.  One girl in all the world, a chosen one, one born with the strength…”_

_“…with the strength and skill to hunt the vampires, to stop the spread of their evil blah, blah, blah.  I’ve heard it, okay?” said Buffy, rolling her moss green eyes in annoyance._

_“I really don’t understand this attitude,” snapped the librarian.  “You-you’ve accepted your duty.  You-you’ve slain vampires before.”_

_“Yeah, and I’ve both been there and done that, and I’m moving on,” said Buffy._

_“What do you know about this town?” he asked._

_“It’s two hours on the freeway from Neiman-Marcus,” answered Buffy flippantly._

_“Dig a bit in the history of this place, and you’ll find a-a steady stream of fairly odd occurrences,” said the librarian, ignoring her rudeness.  “I believe this whole area is a center of mystical energy, that things gravitate towards it that you might not find elsewhere.”_

_“Like vampires.”  Alonna and Dawn looked at each other, eyes wide with shock.  Vampires were_ real _?_

_“Zombies, werewolves, incubi, succubi—Everything you’ve ever dreaded was under your bed but told yourself couldn’t be by the light of day.  They’re all real,” said the librarian fiercely, book after book thudding down onto the table to punctuate his words._

_“What, you, like, sent away for the_ Time/Life _series?” snarked Buffy._

_The librarian looked slightly taken aback.  “Oh, w-well, yes.”_

_So did Buffy.  “Did you get the free phone?”_

_“Um, the calendar.”_

_“Cool.  Wait.  Okay,” said Buffy.  “First of all, I’m a Vampire Slayer.  And secondly, I’m retired.  Hey, I know.  Why don’t_ you _kill them?”_

_“I’m a watcher.  I haven’t the skill,” insisted the librarian._

_“Oh come on.  Stake through the heart, a little sunlight—It’s like falling off a log.”_

_“A_ Slayer _slays, a watcher…”_

_“Watches?”_

_“Yes…No!  He—He trains her.  He—He—He prepares her.”_

_“Prepares me for what?” snapped Buffy.  “For getting kicked out of school?  For losing all of my friends?  For having to spend_ all _of my time fighting for my life and never getting to tell anyone because I might endanger them?  Go ahead.  Prepare me.”_

_Buffy left the library and Giles followed her out.  Xander emerged from behind shelves.  “What?” he said, perplexed._

_“Xander,” hissed Alonna, catching the older boy’s attention and beckoning him over._

_“What are you and the Dawnster doing here, Ally-Cat?” the goofy brunette asked._

_“Sunnydale Middle shares the library,” said Alonna._

_“I got separated from my class when we came over for a tour,” admitted Dawn._

_“We should probably get you back to your class then, Dawnster,” said Xander, trying to be the responsible big brother for once._

_“But Xaaandeeer…”_

_“What was that with Buffy and Mr. Giles?” asked Alonna, redirecting Xander’s attention._

_“Your guess is as good as mine,” he said, shrugging casually.  “All I know is there was a lot of talk about vampires and slayers and mystical destinies and all of it was directed at our Buffster.  I’m not sure I like my little sister—any of them—having any kind of destiny, mystical or other.”_

_“She’s only two months younger than you,” Dawn pointed out._

_Xander shrugged, his hands tucked casually into his pants’ pockets.  “Doesn’t matter,” he said.  “She’s still my little sister, just like you two and Willow and Faith, and I’ll do everything in my power to protect every single one of you.  Even from mystical destinies and shady librarians, if I have to.”_

Dawn was in Mr. Gold’s shop cataloguing the items out front when the earth shook.  Having lived in California for a significant portion of her childhood, she rushed to the doorway to the back room and hugged the wood for dear life.  Like any sane person, she had no love for earthquakes, but she harbored a special hatred for them because of events that had taken place when she was ten and far too curious for her own good.  She glanced into the back room and saw Mr. Gold calmly working on restoring an old pair of wooden marionette puppets at his desk.

“You’re awfully calm,” she snapped, fear taking over her vocal cords.  “Aren’t earthquakes a rarity out here?”

“Aye,” said Mr. Gold, “but all things pass in time, dearie.”

Dawn narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.  “You know more than you’re saying,” she said, more statement of fact than accusation.

“Perhaps,” he said, “or perhaps not.  I suggest you get over your fear and get back to work, Miss Philip, if you expect to pay off your fancy old book anytime soon.”

“I’d like to see you be calm after nearly being crushed in an earthquake,” grumbled Dawn.

“It’s nearly done,” he said.

Sure enough it was.  “Lucky guess,” snapped Dawn, pushing off the frame and stalking out into the main room to pick up the logbook she had dropped in her mad dash for the door.

Mr. Gold hummed quietly.  “Things are changing,” he said cryptically.  Dawn glanced back at him strangely, but he was focused on his work as if nothing odd had occurred at all.

 

_Jenny Calendar was the coolest teacher ever, in Dawn’s humble eleven-year-old opinion.  Sure, more often than not she used that coolness factor to make sure Dawn and Alonna stayed out of danger, but still she was cool, nonetheless.  Emma wasn’t around much since they moved to Sunnydale; she’d found her own crowd at the middle school and thought she was too cool to hang out with her younger sisters anymore.  Dawn didn’t mind so much; sure, she missed Emma’s off-beat humor and pessimistic attitude, but having Miss Calendar around certainly helped to lessen the blow of her sister’s voluntary absence and Alonna stuck with her as well._

_Alonna who was sick all the time now and often spent weeks at a time in and out of the hospital.  Mom and Dad explained that she had something called cancer and all the older kids seemed to understand, but Dawn didn’t.  All she really knew was that her closest friend was too sick to play like they used to and often had to be left behind with their parents or Miss Calendar when she went off on adventures with the junior siblings.  Emma and Faith told her that she needed to grow up and start acting like an adult, but Alonna, Buffy, Xander, and Willow all told her to ignore them and keep being a kid for as long as she could._

_Since Alonna was so sick, Emma was too distant, and Faith was hanging out with some pretty nasty kids, Dawn gravitated toward the other three-quarters of the junior year ‘quads,’ as their mom called them.  Buffy, Xander, and Willow indulged Dawn to a point.  They knew that she knew about what goes bump in the night and Buffy’s sacred calling, but they didn’t let her get directly involved, despite her rather frequent protestations._

_That’s where Miss Calendar came in.  She was the computer teacher at Sunnydale High and Middle School and she was Giles’ girlfriend.  She was also something called a technopagan, which fascinated Dawn to no end.  It was through Miss Calendar that the skinny pre-teen Dawn got her first taste for magic and it was under her secret tutelage that she first showed an aptitude for the subject.  Needless to say, the two kept it a secret.  No one, least of all the Slayer, needed to know that her precious baby sister was being taught magic by the school computer teacher/ technopagan/ gypsy._

“Henry!” Dawn called after the boy tearing down Main Street like a bat out of Hell.  “What’s wrong?”  Henry pushed past her without answering and continued on down the street.  Dawn curiously looked at where he had come from.  “Dr. Hopper,” she muttered to herself, “what have you done now?”

A woman on a mission, Dawn twirled on her heel (nearly tripping on her bootcut jeans) and stalked across the street to the psychologist’s office.  She stormed up the stairs and knocked loudly on the door.  “Dr. Hopper,” she called out, trying to keep the anger out of her voice with moderate success, “I want to talk to you.”

The redheaded man opened the door, a guilty look on his care-worn face.  “Good afternoon, Miss Philip,” he said politely.  “How may I help you?”

Dawn rudely pushed past the bespectacled man into the room.  “You can tell my why Henry’s so upset,” she said.  “He wouldn’t even stop and talk to me just now.  What did you say to him?”

“Wh-why do you assume it was something I said?” said Archie, removing his glasses and cleaning them with a cloth he pulled out of his pocket.

Dawn’s thoughts were nearly derailed by the man’s unconscious action.  She was reminded suddenly of her honorary uncle, Giles, who she hadn’t seen since she’d left England.  She shook her head to clear her thoughts and bring herself back to the present; now was not the time to reminisce.  “He had therapy with you today,” she said matter-of-factly, “and he was coming from your office just now.  I’ll ask just once more: what did you _say_ to him?”

Archie Hopper looked guiltily down at the floor.  “Regina told me to,” he said.

“She told you to do what, Dr. Hopper?  Quickly now; I don’t have all day here.”

“She told me to crush his imagination once and for all.”

 

_“Concentration is key, Dawnie,” said Willow calmly, focusing her attention on the pencil gently rotating in the air before her.  “See?  You try.”_

_Dawn narrowed her eyes at the pencil in front of her and concentrated.  She felt like her brain was going to explode, but she kept going.  Finally the pencil twitched and jerked into the air.  “I did it Willow!” she squealed happily._

_Her squeal broke her sister’s concentration and Willow’s pencil fell back to the table.  Willow smiled indulgently at Dawn’s pencil that was jerking about as if it didn’t know whether to float or fall.  “Good job, Dawnie,” she praised.  “Now try to keep it steady.  Think only of the pencil, nothing else.”_

_Dawn frowned.  “That’s hard,” she complained.  The twelve-year-old was easily distracted and couldn’t stay still to save her life (well,_ maybe _to save her life); she felt Willow was asking the impossible._

_“You can do it, Dawnie; I know you can,” the redhead encouraged her little sister.  “Just concentrate.”_

_Dawn tried, she really did, but the pencil began to jerk about sharply.  It weaved back and forth in the air in front of the girls dangerously.  “Ouch!” cried Dawn as the pencil bobbed forward sharply and pricked the hand protecting her face sharply.  Her concentration broke and the pencil fell to the table.  Dawn examined her finger with a frown.  “It drew blood,” she whined.  “That hurt!”  She shook her finger without thinking and a drop of blood fell to the ground—almost._

_Something strange happened then.  The drop of Dawn’s blood settled in the air just above the floor and began to glow green.  “Dawn…” said Willow slowly, “what did you do?”_

_“What?” said Dawn, glaring at her pencil.  “I lost my concentration, that’s all.”_

_“No, it’s not,” said Willow.  “Look.”  She physically turned Dawn’s head with her hands to look at the small, glowing portal in the middle of the kitchen._

_“What’s that?” asked Dawn._

_“That’s from your blood,” said Willow.  “What were you thinking, Dawnie?”_

_“I didn’t do this on purpose!” said Dawn.  “I don’t know what happened.”_

_Willow sighed.  “That’s not what I meant, Dawnie,” she said.  “What were you thinking_ of _when you shook the blood off your hand?”_

_Dawn shrugged.  “Nothing really,” she said.  “Just how you teach a lot like Miss Calendar did.”  The computer teacher’s death was still a sore spot with the whole Scooby Gang, Dawn and Alonna included._

_Willow looked pensively at the portal.  “This is probably a dumb idea, but I’m going to try something,” she said.  “Dawnie, I want you to hold on to me and don’t let go.  Promise?”_

_“I promise.  Willow, what—”_

_Without further ado, Willow stuck her head through the glowing portal.  Dawn stared in awe as her head disappeared from sight entirely.  Moments later, she pulled back out.  “Your portal opens right beside Miss Calendar’s grave,” she told the younger girl.  “I think you have a talent for portals, but I’m no expert.  We should talk to Giles.”_

_“Is this because of where Mom comes from?” asked Dawn._

_Willow shrugged.  “Possibly,” she said.  “That would make sense how I have magic too and how Xander seems to be able to shrug off most magic like it’s nothing.  We all have different talents, but they all seem to have the same root.  It might be worth talking to Mom, anyway.”_

_“Do you think she’ll be mad?” asked Dawn timidly._

_Willow smiled.  “It’s_ Mom _,” she said.  “She never_ really _gets mad at us…not for long, anyway.”_

“Graham!” Dawn called out, pushing through the crowd to get to the sheriff.  “I heard the mines collapsed.  Is everyone okay?”

The Irish-accented man smiled tightly at her.  “We don’t know much,” he said, “but Henry’s down there.  Dr. Hopper too; he went down after the boy.  We’re working on getting them out safely right now, but we have to proceed with caution or the mines could collapse further and they’d both be trapped down there.”

Dawn frowned.  What a pickle.  “Where’s Emma?” she asked.  “Does she know?”

“Emma’s here as my deputy,” said Graham.  “She and Regina are both quite worried for their son, but there’s nothing we can do until Marco’s done inspecting the site.”

Impulsively, Dawn hugged him around the waist.  She missed the glare Regina sent her way, but Graham didn’t.  He hugged the tall young woman back anyway.  “I know you’re doing everything you can,” Dawn said softly.  “With you and Emma working together, you’ll have Henry and Dr. Hopper out in no time.  I _know_ it.”

Graham took Dawn’s hand once they parted and led her over to a less crowded area.  “Do you know why Henry would head off into the mines?” he asked quietly.  “Emma seems to think he had some sort of argument with Dr. Hopper…”

“He did,” confirmed Dawn.  “It was about his storybook.”

Graham raised an eyebrow.  “His storybook?  What’s that have to do with anything?”

Dawn pursed her lips.  “If Henry hasn’t told you yet, it’s not really my place to,” she said.  “What I _will_ tell you is that Dr. Hopper said something to him at Regina’s urging that cut the kid pretty deep.  I think Henry’s gone off to prove that he’s right, only he didn’t really think about the danger.”

“That’s obvious,” said Graham, snorting.  “He’s a good kid, but this time…”

“I know, Graham,” said Dawn, her voice soothing, “but all we can do now is wait, hope, and pray for a miracle.”

 

_“Dawn, I have someone I want to introduce you to,” said Willow.  She gently tugged a shy-looking blonde woman forward.  “This is my new friend Tara.  I met her at Wicca group at UC Sunnydale and she’s the only real witch out of the bunch.  I thought she might join our lessons, if you’re okay with that?”_

_The thirteen-year-old stared at the blue-eyed intruder with narrowed eyes.  Lessons were_ her _time with Willow; it wasn’t often she got to spend one on one time with any of her siblings anymore, with so many of them grown now.  “I w-w-would be honored to h-help t-teach y-y-you D-Dawn,” said Tara softly, smiling a gentle smile and tucking a lock of pale hair behind her ear._

_Dawn smiled hesitantly back, glancing at the bouncing look of joy on her sister’s pale, freckled face.  “I guess that’s fine,” she agreed._

_“Thank you, Dawnie,” squealed Willow happily, squeezing her in a tight hug.  “This is gonna be great, you’ll see.”_

Dawn, with some difficulty, managed to sneak away from Graham, Emma, and the rest of the crowd to find a secluded spot to work her magic.  She rarely tried to create a portal somewhere she’d never seen (if it wasn’t done just right, things had a tendency to go _very_ wrong), but Henry was in danger.  She nibbled her pointer finger til it bled and flicked the blood into the air, concentrating on her newest nephew as the drops settled in the air.  “Please work,” she muttered as the blood began to glow green and grow into a portal.  “Find Henry,” she spoke at the portal.  “Please help me find him.”  She took a deep breath for courage and stuck her head through the portal, hoping for the best.

 

_“Dawn, you must never step through a portal when you don’t know what’s on the other side,” lectured Tara, pacing back in forth in front of the fourteen-year-old brunette._

_“Why not?” asked Dawn, pouting and crossing her arms across her chest like a petulant child.  “Willow said it’s okay.”_

_Tara sighed dejectedly and sat down beside Dawn.  “Willow…is not well, you know this,” she said.  “She’s been meddling in things that should not be meddled in.  Oz and I have both tried to talk to her, but since Alonna…”_

_“She’s different; I’ve noticed,” admitted Dawn.  “We all are, though.  I mean, Emma ran off, Buffy’s fixated on slaying, Faith’s disappeared, and Xander’s so focused on Anya that he can’t see anything else.  Gunn’s devastated; I don’t know what he’d do if he didn’t have Fred.  I’m not even sure Nicky knows yet cause no one’s been able to track him down.  Mom and Dad are heartbroken.  I think Morgan might be the most well-adjusted of all of us right now, but even she’s not dealing well with Alonna’s d-death.”_

_Tara laid a comforting arm around Dawn’s shoulders and held her close.  “D-death is but the next great adventure, Dawn,” she said softly._

_Dawn let out a strangled sob and buried her face in her hands.  “You totally stole that quote from Harry Potter,” accused the girl, a small smile on her face._

_“It worked, didn’t it?” said Tara.  “I got you to smile.”_

_“Yeah,” croaked Dawn.  “So why are unknown portals so bad anyway?”_

_Tara’s tone turned serious when she explained, “Unknown portals could lead anywhere, Dawn.  You could wind up in the middle of a war zone or on the surface of Mars and then you’d be d-dead faster than you could pull back through.”_

_“Alright, I get it,” said Dawn, shuddering at the mental image of her head blowing up from lack of oxygen.  “No unknown portals for Dawn.”_

_“That’s all I ask.”_

It was dark when Dawn stepped through her portal, dark and damp.  She shuddered and conjured a ball of light to see by.  She thought that she could hear faint voices further down the passageway, but with the way that sound echoed in empty places like this, she couldn’t be entirely sure.  “Hello?” she called out softly.  She heard a loud explosion further down and then a muffled crash.

Freeing her light to hover above her head, Dawn broke into a sprint, but with her sense of direction (non-existent) and the strange echoy quality of the mines, she got lost pretty fast.  She pulled to a stop when she came upon something extremely strange: a human -sized glass coffin, broken and battered, but still mostly whole.  “I’ll be darned,” she said, whistling appreciatively.  “Henry was looking for proof.”  As carefully as a klutz like her could, she picked up a large piece of the glass from the ground and placed it in her jacket pocket.  She then gently sliced her finger on the jagged edge of the coffin and opened another portal out to the surface.  Surely Emma and Graham had rescued Henry and Dr. Hopper by now.  As she stepped through the portal, she thought she heard a strange rustling sound and a roaring noise, but the portal closed behind her before she could investigate further.

_Dawn woke to find herself in the empty Bronze; the last thing she remembered was the strange puppet demon kidnapping her (she didn’t care what the calendar said; it_ had _to be Tuesday).  She stood to leave when she was stopped by a strange red-skinned, suit-wearing demon who began to sing at her.  “Why’d you run away, don’t you like my style?” he sang, pulling her to the stage and making his suit magically change colors.  “Why don’t you come and play?  I guarantee a great big smile” He tore the smile off his face momentarily and it kept right on singing.  “I come from the imagination and I’m here strictly by your invocation, so what’d you say, why don’t we dance awhile?”  He drew her up from the throne-like chair she had sat down in and she inexplicably began to dance with him.  “I’m the heart of swing,” he continued, “I’m the twist and shout.  When you gotta sing, when you gotta let it out, you call me and I come a-runnin’, I turn the music on- I bring the fun in.  Now we’re partying—that’s what it’s all about.  Cause I know what you feel, girl.  I know just what you feel, girl.  All these melodies, they go on too long.  Then that energy starts to come on way too strong.  All those hearts lay open—that must sting.  Plus some customers just start combusting.  That’s the penalty when life is but a song.”  He forced her back into the chair and kept right on singing.  “You brought me down and doomed this town, so when we blow this scene, back we will go to my kingdom below and you will be my queen,” he sang, snapping his fingers and changing her clothes into a dress fit for a princess (or queen, as the case may be)._

_“No you see, you and me wouldn’t be very regal,” sang Dawn as the demon continued to sing and dance around her._

_“And I make it real girl.”_

_“What I mean, I’m fifteen, so this ‘queen’ thing’s illegal,” sang Dawn._

_“I can bring whole cities to ruin and still have time to get a soft shoe in.”_

_“No that’s great, but I’m late and I’d hate to delay her.”_

_“Something’s cooking—I’m at the griddle,” sang Sweet (the demon).  “I bought Nero his very first fiddle.”_

_“She’ll get pissed if I’m missed, see my sister’s the Slayer,” sang Dawn causing Sweet to pause._

_“The Slayer?” he said and Dawn nodded.  He smiled evilly and sang, “Now we’re partying, that’s what it’s all about.”_

_After Dawn had been rescued, Sweet had been defeated (sent back to Hell alone once Xander revealed that_ he _had been the one to summon the demon, not Dawn), and their Coda had been sung, Tara pulled Dawn aside.  “Why d-didn’t you portal out of there, Dawn?” the sweet blonde witch asked curiously._

_“I-I couldn’t,” admitted Dawn.  “I have to concentrate on a place to open a portal there, even if it’s just unconsciously, and I was just too weirded out to think about anything further than the musical demon who wanted me to be his queen.”_

_Tara frowned thoughtfully.  “So you’ve never opened one completely by accident?” she asked._

_“Just that first time,” admitted Dawn, “but even then I was sorta thinking about a specific place at the same time.”  She peered into the older woman’s thoughtful face curiously.  “You have something face,” she said._

_“I’m just thinking,” said Tara, “that it’s probably for the best that you can’t open up portals by accident.  Can you imagine what would happen if a portal opened up every time you lost even a drop of blood?”_

_Dawn giggled.  “There’d be portals everywhere; anyone could stumble through,” she said._

_Tara smiled.  “Always remember to close your portals, Dawn,” she joked.  “We wouldn’t want just any average Joe to wind up getting a free tour of the Philip household.”_

_“Yeah, I don’t think Dad or Buffy would be too happy with me if that happened.”_

_“Your mom or the rest of your sisters either,” said Tara._

_“I dunno,” said Dawn, “Faith might think it’d be funny.  I know Nicky and Gunn would, probably Xander too.”_

_“Your brothers are strange, Dawn,” said Tara.  “No offense.”_

_“None taken,” said Dawn.  “Sometimes I think they’re from another planet entirely.”_

Honestly Dawn was surprised that Regina had let her son come to the party at Granny’s after the ordeal he had put her through.  She wasn’t complaining, but she did keep a close eye on the older woman as subtly as she could.  “Are you trying to bore a hole through Regina’s head?” asked Graham, sneaking up behind her and causing her to jump in surprise.

“You startled me,” she yelped, clutching her chest above her heart.  “When’d you get here?”

“Just now,” said Graham, handing the blue-eyed brunette a beer.  “What’s with the glare of doom?”

“I thought I was being subtle,” Dawn mumbled.

Graham laughed.  “Not really, darling,” he said, slipping his arm casually around her small waist.

Dawn smiled up at him and snuggled into the warmth of his chest.  “I never said I was good at this detective stuff,” she said.  “I’ll leave that to you and Emma.”

He placed a soft kiss to her hair.  “Probably for the best,” he said, smiling back at her.

She contentedly sipped on her beer and surveyed the room with half-lidded eyes.  Henry was talking animatedly with Casey and an unfamiliar blonde girl; Emma was talking—no, yelling at Gunn; Fred was deep in conversation with Ruby; Mary-Margaret was chatting with Dr. Whale; and Regina was…apparently trying to set Dawn on fire with her mind.  “Something you wanna tell me, Graham?” she asked softly, her eyes never leaving Regina.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” said Graham, taking a drink of his beer.

“Are we in a relationship?” she asked bluntly.

“Well, I’d like to be,” he admitted.  “Is that something you want?”

“Only if you’re not already taken.”

“I’m not dating anyone right now,” he said, purposefully evasive.

“So you’re just sleeping with the mayor, then.”

Graham sputtered and choked on his beer.  “ _What_?” he said incredulously.  “Where’d you get _that_ idea?”

Dawn nodded her head toward Regina.  “The glare of death that’s being directed at me kinda clued me in.”

Graham glanced over at the mayor and then looked away guiltily.  “Look, Dawn,” he said, “it’s complicated…”

“Uncomplicate it,” she said simply, turning to look him in the eye.  “Look, I like you Graham.  A lot, actually.  But I’m not going to be the other woman here.  I’ll give you some time to think about it, but I’m not going to wait around forever, okay?”

“Dawn…”

She kissed him on the cheek, his stubble scratching her lips.  “Just sleep on it, Graham,” she said softly.  “I’m not asking you to decide right this second, but whatever we have will have to wait till you do.  I will _not_ be the other woman.  Good night, Graham.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Dawn—”

“Tomorrow, Graham,” said Dawn, smiling at him before heading off to say her goodnights to her family.  The sheriff watched her go with a wistful look of longing in his grey eyes, unaware of the dark glare Regina was projecting toward the object of his affections.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I don't know how important Sweet & Dawn's song actually is to the plot of my story, but the song was stuck in my head while I was writing this chapter so I decided to just go with the muse and put it in. ;)
> 
> Please leave comments & kudos to feed the savage plot dragons! (Flames are not appreciated.)


	6. Someday (My Prince Will Come)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dawn and Mary-Margaret have relationship issues and Giselle teaches her daughters about true love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Flashbacks are pretty out of chronological order in this chapter, but they're the way they are for a reason. Hope it's not too confusing!
> 
> AN2: Slight bashing of Robin Wood in this chapter; nothing personal, I just made him kind of a dick for purposes of Faith's backstory.

** Chapter 6: Someday (My Prince Will Come) **

****

                _“Mama, why does the prince have to come and rescue the princess?  Why can’t she rescue_ him _instead?” asked Emma, all of ten and precocious as all get out._

_“I like it when the princess gets rescued,” piped in little Dawn (only just seven), her voice high and sweet._

_“Me too,” said Alonna, the stepping stone between the two at the age of nine, “but I think she should at least_ try _to not be such a distressing damsel.”_

_Giselle smiled.  “I think you mean damsel in distress, Aly,” she said_

_Alonna frowned.  “No, I mean distressing damsel,” she said.  “She’s really kind of annoying.  Why can’t she just run away from her stepmother or take back her father’s kingdom?”  She crossed her arms across her chest.  “I don’t think I like this Disney guy very much,” she said.  “Your stories are much better, Mommy.”_

_“Yeah,” agreed Dawn, “can you tell us a story instead, please?”_

_Giselle looked over at Emma, who shrugged.  “I really just wanted to watch a different movie, but if they want a story, that’s okay too.”_

_“Alright then, girls, what story shall it be tonight?” Giselle asked her three youngest daughters._

_“Cinderella!” said Dawn, bouncing on her bottom._

_“No, Sleeping Beauty,” insisted Alonna._

_“I’d like to hear about Snow White and Prince Charming,” said Emma softly._

_Giselle smiled indulgently at the three girls.  “How about I tell you a story that has all three in it?” she suggested._

_Three sets of eyes—blue, green, and brown—stared at her in fascination.  “You can_ do _that, Mommy?” said Dawn curiously._

_Giselle smiled widely at them.  “Just you wait and see,” she said.  “This story begins, as always, with Once Upon A Time…”_

Dawn couldn’t help but watch Graham at David Nolan’s welcome home party.  “Does he look sad to you?” she asked Emma.

                “Graham?” said Emma, glancing over at the brunette sheriff.  “Maybe.  Why?  Did you two have a fight?”

                Dawn sighed.  “It’s complicated,” she said.

                “So complicated that you can’t tell your own sister?” asked Emma, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

                “I—”

                “You’re the two who helped the sheriff and Mary-Margaret find me, aren’t you?” asked the man of the hour, coming up to them.

                “Yes,” said Emma, “we are.”

                “Oh, well, thank you,” he said, smiling sincerely.  “That’s what I wanted to say, but I also wanted to ask if you know—is Mary-Margaret coming to the party?  I haven’t seen her yet.”

                “Oh, she couldn’t make it,” said Emma smoothly.  “She asked me to tell you congratulations for your homecoming, though.”

                “Oh,” said David, looking crestfallen.  “Thanks anyway.  I’d better go say hi to everyone now.  Thanks for coming.”

                “Sure thing,” said Dawn, smiling at him.  “It’s a great party.”

                “It was all Kathryn,” he said.  “I’ll pass that on, though.”  He smiled at them a bit awkwardly and then headed back into the crowd.

                “You know,” said Dawn casually, “according to Henry, David is Prince Charming, which makes him your birth father.”  Emma just rolled her eyes before leaving Dawn to her own devices.

                “Dawn, can we talk?” asked a familiar, Irish-accented voice coming up behind her.

                “Not here,” said Dawn quietly.  “I have a feeling I’m not going to like what you have to say and I don’t want to make a scene at David’s party.”

                “Where then?”

                Dawn turned to face him.  “Tomorrow morning, breakfast at Granny’s.  You’re paying.”

                “Of course,” he said.

                “Seven o’clock,” she said, large blue eyes boring into him.  “Don’t be late.”

                “I won’t, I promise.”

 

                _“How did you know Dad was the one?” Dawn asked her mother as she sat at the kitchen island, swinging her long legs back and forth._

_“I just knew, I guess,” said Giselle, mixing the pancake batter with expert precision.  “Well, I knew for sure when he kissed me and broke the sleeping curse, but even before that I knew he was special, I just didn’t want to admit it at first because I thought I was in love with someone else.”_

_Dawn sighed and laid her head on arms on the marble counter top.  “I met this guy at Oxford this past semester,” the nineteen-year-old admitted, “and I really like him…a lot…I just don’t know if he’s the_ One _, you know?  How do I know for sure?”_

_Giselle smiled and set the white, flower-patterned bowl down.  She sat down next to her youngest daughter and stroked her hand over the young woman’s dark, chestnut hair.  “When you meet the someone who is meant for you,” she sang sweetly, “before two can become one there’s something you must do.”_

_“What Mom?” asked Dawn, turning sapphire blue eyes on her mother.  “Please don’t tell me I have to live with or sleep with the guy to know.”_

_Giselle smiled and kissed the top of Dawn’s head.  “No,” she sang, “there is something sweeter everybody needs…”  She gently pulled Dawn toward her so that her daughter was lying against her chest.  “I’ve been dreaming of a true love’s kiss,” she continued, her voice light and soothing, “and the prince I’m hoping comes with this.  That’s what makes ever-aftering so happy.  There’s a reason we need lips so much, for lips are the only things that touch…” Dawn looked up at her mother curiously.  “So to spend a life of endless bliss,” she sang on, “just find who you love through True Love’s Kiss.”_

_“Does that really work, Mom?  True Love’s Kiss?” asked Dawn.  “It’s not just part of your fairy stories?”_

_“All stories are based in truth, Dawn,” said Giselle.  “Besides, it worked for me.  Why shouldn’t it work for you too?”_

                Dawn fidgeted in the booth at Granny’s, nervously clenching her hands around her tabasco-infused cocoa.  There were still three minutes until seven; he wasn’t late…yet.  She sipped absently at the spicy-sweet concoction and watched the minutes tick by on the large clock on the wall behind the counter.  Two minutes, one…thirty seconds…

                “Hello, Dawn.”  Graham slid onto the bench across from her with sixteen seconds to spare.

                “I almost thought you weren’t gonna show,” said Dawn softly.

                “I said I would, didn’t I?” said Graham.

                “Yes, you did,” said Dawn, nodding her thanks to Ruby as she set her breakfast burrito down in front of her.  “So…” she trailed off, picking at her food with her fork.

                “So…” said Graham, accepting the mug of coffee from the brunette waitress.  “You want to know about me and Regina.”

                “Ideally, yes,” said Dawn.  “I’d like to know what’s going on between the two of you because I refuse to be someone’s mistress or even just someone you call when you’re angry or bored with her.  So what’s going on with you and the mayor anyway?”

                “Regina and I are…complicated,” said Graham, sipping his coffee slowly.

                “Complicated,” Dawn parroted back.  “Care to elaborate on that for me?”

                “I don’t…I don’t _feel_ anything when I’m with her, Dawn,” he said.  “I’m unhappy all the time.  When I’m with you, I feel... _alive_.  I want to feel that way all the time, but…”

                “But what, Graham?”

                “You don’t just cross the mayor and get away with it.  Not in this town.”

 

                _Dawn hated to watch Faith spiral deeper and deeper into a depressed state as her relationship with Robin Wood grew more destructive and unhealthy by the day.  Since the fall of Sunnydale, the two had been a couple.  At first everything seemed fine, but then Faith suddenly stopped coming over for Sunday dinner and then she stopped talking to the family altogether.  Things finally spiraled to a head one day early in 2005, about two years after the fall of Sunnydale, when Faith suddenly showed up on their parents’ doorstep pregnant and in tears._

 _“He’s been cheating on me for over a year,” she admitted without her usual careless bravado.  “I’ve known for a while, but I didn’t want to admit it.  He’s the first guy who’s really looked at me as more than just a sex object, so I didn’t want to ruin anything by rockin’ the boat…but I just can’t do this anymore, Ma.  I don’t like what he’s turned me into and I_ definitely _don’t want to raise my baby with him; I don’t care that he’s the father, he doesn’t deserve the title.”_

_“You always have a home here, Faith,” said Robert, “I hope you know that.  You’re our daughter and we love you no matter what.”_

_“I know, Pops,” said Faith, brushing a lone tear from her cheek.  “Damn hormones; I never used to cry this much.  I guess I just thought Robin was my One, you know; like in your stories, Ma.  That’s crazy, right?”  She laughed bitterly.  “It’s not like true love really exists or anything.”_

_“Oh, Faith,” said Giselle, leaning in to hug her daughter tightly, “of_ course _it exists!  Just look at your father and me.”_

_“Yeah, well, you’re the exception, obviously,” said Faith bitterly._

_“What about Morgan?” asked Robert.  “Or Charles?  Willow, Xander, and Buffy?  They’ve all found their true loves.”_

_Faith snorted.  “Morgan’s ‘true love’ is dead, Xander and Cordy fight more often than they don’t,  and don’t_ even _get me started on the drama that is Angel and Buffy.  Gunn and Fred, and Willow and Oz may be alright for now, but just give it time,” she said.  “Something_ will _go wrong; you’ll see.  Just look at Emma; she thought that guy Neal loved her and he went and let her get arrested for somethin’_ he _did.  And Aly never even_ got _the chance to find ‘true love.’”_

 _“Does that mean I won’t find_ my _true love?” asked Dawn, finally piping up, her voice warbley and close to tears._

_“Oh no, Dawn!” said Giselle, rushing to envelop her baby girl in a hug.  “You’ll find your true love someday, don’t listen to Faith.  Your sister’s just hurting right now; she’ll see the truth someday.”_

_“What truth?” asked Dawn softly as she watched her father lead Faith into the kitchen to get her some food._

_“That true love is the most powerful magic in all the worlds,” said Giselle solemnly._

After Graham left the diner, Dawn sat alone in her booth, contemplating his ominous words.  She knew that Regina was the Evil Queen, but she didn’t really have _that_ much power in this world…did she?  She should really talk to Henry about it; if anyone would know, it would be the mayor’s son.  That boy was scarily perceptive.

                “Mind if I sit here?”

                Dawn glanced up, startled.  “Hi Mary-Margaret,” she said.  “Of course you can.”

                The raven-haired school teacher slid into the seat that Graham had recently vacated.  “I saw you were talking with Graham earlier,” she said, ordering a coffee from Ruby when she stopped by.  “Is everything okay?”

                Dawn groaned and slammed her head down a little too hard on the plastic table.  “He’s being a butt,” she said.

                Mary-Margaret stifled a giggle.  “You sound like one of my fourth graders, Dawn,” she said.  “What happened?”

                “We were talking about his… _whatever_ with Regina and he’s too afraid to break things off with her, but he still wants to be with me.”  She looked up at the older woman, wide blue eyes confused and pleading.  “Are all adult relationships like this?” she asked.  “I’ve never been this serious about a guy before.”

                Mary-Margaret smiled self-depreciatingly.  “I’m not really the best person to go to for relationship advice,” she said.  “It’s been a long time for me too and, well, the man I’m currently interested in is married.”

                Dawn laughed sullenly.  “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

                “Quite a pair indeed,” said Regina, who had snuck up to their table at some point during the conversation and was glaring daggers at both of them.  “You both need to stay away from these men, ladies.  They’re not yours.  David Nolan is married to my _friend_ and Graham is _mine_ , do you understand?”

                “Clear as mud,” snarked Dawn.  “You know, they’re people, not cattle.  Or have we suddenly gone back in time to the Dark Ages and slavery is legal again?”

                Regina sneered at the younger woman.  “You should watch your mouth, little girl,” she snapped.  “You wouldn’t want to insult the wrong person; something bad might happen to you…or to someone you care about.”

                Dawn raised an eyebrow at the sleekly dressed woman.  “Is that a threat?” she asked.

                “I don’t make threats, Miss Philip,” she said calmly, “I make promises.”

 

                _“Hey, Dawnie, can we talk?”_

_Dawn looked up from where she lay on her stomach on her bed to see her sister-in-law Cordelia standing red-eyed in the doorway of her room.  “Sure thing, Cordy,” she said, sitting up.  “What’s wrong?”_

_The older brunette came into the room and sat down on the bed beside her.  Her chocolate eyes were full of tears and she wasn’t as put together as she usually was.  “I think Xander might be cheating on me,” she said, as tactless as ever._

_“What makes you say that?” asked Dawn, abandoning her phonetics textbook in favor of her favorite in-law._

_“I keep seeing him around that Anya girl, you know the one who transferred to Sunnydale my senior year?”_

_“The blonde girl who has even less of a brain-to-mouth filter than you?” asked Dawn._

_“Yes!” sobbed Cordy, collapsing onto her side on the purple and black striped quilt.  “She’s stealing Xander away from me by being a bigger bitch than I am!”_

_“Don’t be ridiculous,” scoffed Dawn.  “You’re the biggest, baddest bitch this side of the Pacific.  You’re_ Queen C _.”_

_“That was high school, Dawnie,” said Cordy sadly.  “This is the grown up world; the rules are different now.”_

_Dawn frowned.  “Are you sure there’s not something else wrong, Cordy?” she asked.  “You’re not your usual snarky self.”_

_Cordelia blinked wet eyes at her youngest sister-in-law.  “I think I might be pregnant,” she admitted softly._

_“Does Xander know?”_

_She shook her head.  “I haven’t said anything ‘cause I’m not sure myself yet; I’m going to see the doctor tomorrow.”_

_“You must be pretty sure if you’re worried about it,” said Dawn.  “Are you sure it’s not just hormones making you see something that’s not really there with Anya?”_

_“I suppose it’s possible,” said Cordy, taking a tissue from the box on Dawn’s nightstand and dabbing at her eyes.  “I just remember that Xander had a crush on her in high school and they went to senior prom together… and I’m probably reading_ way _too much into this, aren’t I?”_

_“It’s possible,” said Dawn, shrugging her shoulders.  “Would you like me to do some snooping around for you?”_

_“Would you?” asked Cordy, dark eyes wide and pleading._

_“Hey, what else are annoying little sisters for?” joked Dawn._

“You wanna go check out that bar, um, I think it’s called _The Rabbit Hole_ , with me tonight?” Dawn asked Emma as the blonde puttered around the kitchen in her and Mary-Margaret’s small apartment.

                “Can’t,” said Emma.  “Your sheriff boyfriend asked me to take the night shift tonight.”

                “He’s not my boyfriend,” Dawn said automatically.  “And did you have to say yes?”

                “He bribed me with doughnuts,” said Emma dryly, finally finding the pot she was looking for.  “Spaghetti and meatballs sound good?”

                Dawn raised an eyebrow at her sister.  “I wasn’t aware you could cook anything else,” she said.

                “Hey,” protested Emma, “I’ll have you know, I make a mean pancake.”

                “Yeah, _one_ pancake out of a dozen comes out right,” teased Dawn.

                Emma glared at Dawn.  “That was _one_ time,” she insisted, “ _and_ I was distracted.”

                “Whatever you say, sis,” said Dawn, smirking.

                Mary-Margaret chose that moment to walk in the front door.  She stared strangely at the sight of Emma in the kitchen.  “I didn’t know you cooked, Emma,” she said as she set her purse down on the coffee table and hung up her coat beside the door.

                “She doesn’t,” said Dawn.  “She’s a one trick pony in the kitchen; spaghetti and meatballs is pretty much all she can make.”

                “What about my pancakes?” protested Emma.

                “I’m still not convinced that wasn’t a one-time deal,” said Dawn airily.

                Emma glared at the younger woman.  “I disown you as my sister,” she snapped playfully.

                “Who will cook for you, then?” asked Dawn, smirking at her from her seat at the counter.

                “You cook?” asked Mary-Margaret curiously, joining the brunette at the counter.

                Emma snorted.  “If you can stomach her weird taste combinations,” she said, “but even then, she still burns water.”

                “Hey!” protested Dawn.  “I haven’t done that since I was fifteen.  And my food combinations are perfectly tasty, thank you very much.”

                Emma raised an eyebrow at her sister.  “Tabasco and cocoa is normal?” she said.  “What about your peanut butter and banana quesadillas?”

                “That doesn’t sound too bad,” piped in Mary-Margaret.

                “Did I mention she still adds in salsa, cheese, and beef?  Not to mention jalapeños and apple butter.”

                “Never mind,” said Mary-Margaret, making a disgusted face.

                “Mom thinks my food’s perfectly normal,” grumbled Dawn, slouching down and leaning her chin on the countertop.

                Emma laughed.  “We’re _all_ pretty sure that Mom’s the one who you inherited your taste buds from, Dawnie,” she said.

                Dawn grumbled and Mary-Margaret laughed.  “If you ladies are looking for a change of topic, I could tell you about what’s going on with me and David,” the raven-haired woman suggested.

                “Be my guest,” said Dawn, relief evident in her voice.

                At the same time Emma said, smirking, “Now why would we want that?”

                “David left his wife,” Mary-Margaret blurted out, cheeks rosy and body practically vibrating with excitement.  “He wants to give _us_ a chance.”

                “Oh, Mary-Margaret—” began Dawn.

                “I think you should go for it,” interrupted Emma.

                “You do?” said Dawn, surprised.

                “You do?” parroted Mary-Margaret, green eyes hopeful.

                “Yeah,” said Emma, shrugging casually.  “He left his wife for you; he’s obviously serious.  I say give him a chance.”

 

                _“Oh, Emma.”  Dawn could only watch in fascinated sorrow as her normally emotionally closed-off sister collapsed, sobbing, into their mother’s arms.  “I’m so sorry, baby girl,” the redheaded woman said.  “I never wanted something like this to happen to_ any _of you.”_

_“I guess Faith and I could start an ex-convicts club now, huh?” the eighteen-year-old blonde tried joking._

_“You’ll have to wait until your sister gets out for that,” said Robert, expression warring between paternal disapproval and fatherly concern.  
                “Oh, right,” said Emma in a small voice._

_Robert sighed and sat down beside her, putting his arms around her shoulders.  “I’m sorry, princess,” he said, hugging her tight.  “I didn’t mean anything by it.”_

_“You’re disappointed in me,” said Emma sadly.  “I understand.”_

_“I’m not disappointed in you, Emma,” said Robert.  “I don’t approve of some of the decisions you’ve made lately, but they were_ yours _to make.  You’ve learned from your mistakes, haven’t you?”_

_“Yes,” said Emma._

_“Then I’ll never be disappointed in you.”_

_“You’re the best dad a girl could ever wish for,” said Emma, smiling shakily at him._

_“Oh, princess,” he said with a sigh, burying her face in his chest.  “I never wanted you to go through having your heart broken.”_

_“What happened to Emma?” Dawn whispered to her mother.  “I thought she just went to prison.”_

_Giselle glanced over at her crying daughter and husband and quickly pulled Dawn into the kitchen.  “Emma met a boy,” she explained quietly once they were out of earshot, “before she went to prison.  She was in love and she thought that he loved her back, but he betrayed her and got her sent to prison for something_ he _did.”  Giselle paused a moment then continued.  “She found out she was pregnant while she was there,” she said._

 _“Where’s the baby?” asked Dawn curiously._                

 _“I gave him up,” said Emma, entering the room silently, “to give him his best chance.  I wanted for him what_ I _got from Mom and Dad; a family who loves me unconditionally and would do_ anything _for me.”_

_“And he couldn’t get that here?” asked Dawn, staring up at her older sister with wide, blue eyes._

_“No,” said Emma, “because I’m not ready to be a mother and it wouldn’t be fair to him or to Mom and Dad to raise him as our brother only to turn around someday and tell him the truth.  He’ll be better off with a family that’s all his own.”_

_“But Buffy’s a mom and she’s only a couple years older than you,” protested Dawn, not understanding her sister’s logic at all._

_“Buffy’s nearly four years older than me, Dawnie,” said Emma, “_ and _she was ready to be a mom.  I’m just …not.  Besides, she has Angel to help her and well…Neal didn’t exactly try to contact me after he got me arrested.  I think it’s safe to say he’s out of the picture.”_

Dawn’s cell phone rang, Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face” blaring out and breaking the silence of her hotel room.  She set down the book she’d gotten from Gold (she was just starting to make some headway on translating it) and answered it.  “Hello Emma,” she said.

                “Dawn, I need to talk to you,” she said, her voice serious.  “Can you meet me at Mary-Margaret’s?”

                “Sure,” said Dawn.  “Is something wrong?”

                “I’ll tell you there, Dawnie.  I think you need to hear this in person.”

 

                Dawn knocked on the door of the apartment fifteen minutes later and was let in by a teary-eyed Mary-Margaret.  “And I though tonight was going to go so well,” she sighed.  “He changed his mind, didn’t he?”

                “Yes,” said Mary-Margaret.  “He remembered everything and decided to give Katheryn another chance.”

                “Is this why you called me over?” Dawn asked, looking across the room at Emma, who was mixing up three cups of cocoa in the kitchen.

                “Not completely,” said Emma, handing one to Dawn with a bottle of tabasco, one to Mary-Margaret, and keeping one for herself.  “I saw something tonight that I think you should know about.”

                “What?” asked Dawn.  “Was it something bad?”  Emma silently guided her sister over to Mary-Margaret’s brown wicker sofa.  “It _was_ something bad, wasn’t it?” said Dawn.  “You’ve got your serious face on and you’re being all gentle and stuff.  What happened?”

                “I caught Graham sneaking out of Regina’s house after dark,” said Emma.  “I’m sorry Dawn; he’s sleeping with her.”

                Dawn stared down at her cocoa in silence.  “I had wondered,” she said softly.  “I knew there was _something_ going on between them, I just didn’t know _what_.”  She looked up at her sister, wide eyes vulnerable.  “Are you sure?” she asked.

                “I’m sorry, Dawnie,” said Emma, sitting beside her sister and holding her close.  “He told me himself.”

                Dawn breath hitched in a sob and Mary-Margaret sat down gingerly on her other side, hesitantly placing an arm around the young woman.  “I wish I could make this better,” said Mary-Margaret, “but I don’t know what to do.”

                “Did you know?” asked Dawn.

                “I had no idea,” said Mary-Margret truthfully.  “They’ve either been very sneaky or they haven’t been together long.”

                “It’s the former,” confirmed Emma.  “He told me they’ve been keeping it quiet so that Henry wouldn’t know.”

                Dawn snorted.  “At least they’ve got _that_ priority straight,” she said.

                A ghost of a smile crossed Emma’s face.  “That’s pretty much what I said,” she admitted.  “Hey, want me to beat him up for you?”

                Dawn chocked back a sob.  “We’re not in high school anymore, Em,” she said.

                “I could still take him; I bet he’d even let me beat him up for you.  He seemed pretty torn up about the whole thing.”

                “He was probably just embarrassed to get caught,” said Mary-Margaret.

                “No, I know he’s unhappy with whatever it is that he and Regina have; he told me as much.  Thanks for the support, but I think I’ll sleep on this and talk to him tomorrow.”

_“He’s not cheating on me!” squealed Cordelia happily, bursting into the living room where Dawn, Buffy, and Willow were lying around on the floor watching a movie with baby Connor._

_“Congratulations?” said Buffy, holding her three-month-old son in her lap.  “I didn’t know that was a possibility.”_

_“Look!” she said, waving her left hand at them.  “He proposed!”_

_Dawn shot up and grabbed her hand, staring at the beautiful diamond ring on her finger.  “It’s gorgeous, Cordy,” she said._

_“I didn’t realize Xander had such great taste; it really is beautiful,” added Buffy wistfully._

_“He had Anya help him pick it out,” she said, sitting down with Dawn on the couch.  “Apparently_ that’s _why he’s been hanging out with her so much lately.”_

 _“I could have told you that,” said Willow casually.  “He introduced her to her boyfriend and she felt she owed him; she does_ not _like to owe people.”_

_“Yeah, well, you’re his twin,” said Cordy.  “You’ll always take his side.”_

_“That’s not true,” protested Willow._

_“Actually, it kind of is,” said Buffy.  “Sorry Wills.”_

_“Hey, I get it,” said Cordy.  “He’s pretty loveable.  I said yes, didn’t I?”_

_“I’m so glad you’re getting your happy ending, Cordy,” said Dawn, hugging the older girl happily._

_“I don’t like to think of this as an ending, Dawn,” said Cordy.  “I look at this as the beginning of my happily ever after.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So Connor here is actually Buffy & Angel's son, conceived during the Angel episode "I Will Remember You" when Angel was human. (Just in case it doesn't come up again later...though it probably will.)
> 
> AN2: I haven't yet decided for sure who Anya's unnamed boyfriend is (or if it's even important to know), but for some reason Spike popped into my head when I wrote the flashback...
> 
> If you like this story, leave a comment and let me know! (No flames please!)


	7. Here I Stand (And Here I Stay)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dawn and Graham start to work things out and The Huntsman finds himself basically enslaved to The Evil Queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for the end of Once Season 3 in a couple of the flashbacks.
> 
> AN: The Enchanted Forest pre-curse timeline is nasty to try to keep straight. :(

** Chapter 7: Here I Stand (And Here I Stay) **

****

                When Dawn returned home late, after a night of tears and cocoa with Mary-Margaret and Emma, she found Graham waiting outside her door at the inn, a large bouquet of red roses clutched in his hands.  “Dawn, I can explain—”

                “Don’t, Graham,” she cut him off sharply, digging through her purse for her key.  “I don’t want to hear it right now, okay?”

                “Look, I know Emma probably told you about what happened with Regina, but—”

                “No buts, Graham,” said Dawn, fitting her key into the lock.  “Look, we can talk about this tomorrow, but all I want right now is to take a long, hot shower and crawl into my nice warm bed, okay?”  Impulsively she darted forward and pecked him on the cheek.  “Tomorrow, okay?”  She entered her room and quickly shut the door before Graham had the chance to say anything else.

 

                _“Mom, can I ask you something?”_

_“Sure thing, Dawn,” said Giselle, setting the dress she was working on back on the worktable.  “Do you want to go into my office?”_

_“That’d be great,” the young woman replied._

_Giselle gestured to her office in the corner of the open floor and mother and daughter entered the spacious room.  Once the door was shut behind them, Giselle spoke.  “What’s on your mind, Dawn?” she asked._

_“I’ve been thinking about something an awful lot lately,” the blue-eyed brunette said, pacing the floor.  “At first I thought it was just a passing craze, but I can’t get it out of my head.  Some of the documents I’ve been translating for my Advanced Linguistics class are turning up some pretty strange things…”_

_“Strange how, Dawn?” asked Giselle curiously._

_“One of them is actually a personal record of a man who claims to be a Realm Jumper, as he calls himself.  I couldn’t help but notice that a lot of the tales he tells of his homeland, which he calls the Enchanted Forest, match up with_ your _stories, Mom.”  Dawn turned piercing blue eyes on her mother.  “Tell me, are your stories true?  Are you_ really _a princess from another land?”_

_Giselle smiled.  “They’re true, Dawn,” she said, “every one of them.”_

_Dawn squealed in delight and rushed forward to hug her mother.  “I knew it!” she said.  “Ms. Pierce and Giles both told me I was reading too much into childhood fantasies, but I_ knew _I was right!”_

_“Of course you are, Dawn,” said Giselle, chuckling airily.  “I’m actually surprised that Mr. Giles is so sceptic; you’d think being the Watcher to the last two called Slayers would make a man more open to the impossible.”_

_“You’d think,” said Dawn._

Despite what she’d told Graham, Dawn actually spent most of the next day actively trying to avoid the sheriff.  It was harder than she thought; he seemed to be everywhere that she wanted (or needed) to go just when she was going there.  Breakfast with Henry?  Graham was walking into the diner.  Organizing the shop for Mr. Gold?  Graham was walking past down Main Street.  Lunch with Emma?  Graham was just leaving Granny’s.  She ended up spending the afternoon with Fred, Gunn, and baby Amy in their room at the inn just to have an excuse to avoid him (“We set the older kids up at the Academy, Dawn,” said Fred.  “We weren’t sure how long we’d be in town and it just isn’t good for them to miss too much school.”).  Her luck finally ran out when she made her way down to Granny’s Diner after the dinner rush for a drink…or three.

                “You’ve been avoiding me all day, Dawn,” said Graham, sidling up beside her at the counter.  “Is this about last night?”

                “You bet your ass it’s about last night,” snapped Dawn.

                “I’m sorry, Dawn,” he said, eyes wide with genuine regret.  “I never meant for you to find out this way.”

                “You never meant for me to find out at all, did you?”

                “I was going to tell you,” he said, eyes fixed on the floor.

                “When, Graham?” she hissed.  “When I’d caught you in the act or when _Madam Mayor_ finally decided to get rid of me?”

                “I’d never let that happen, Dawn,” said Graham seriously.  “I’d never let her hurt you.”

                “But _you_ would…you _did_ hurt me, Graham,” she said, blinking back tears.  “I thought we _had_ something, or at least the _start_ of something.  Why wouldn’t you tell me?  I had to hear it from my _sister_ that you’re sleeping with the mayor!”

                A few heads turned toward them, but Graham only had eyes for her.  “I’m sorry, Dawn,” he said, hesitantly placing his hand on her arm.  “I don’t know what I can do to make this better.  I realize it was stupid not to tell you, but it’s become sort of a habit to hide it.”

                Dawn snorted inelegantly.  “That’s one way to put it,” she snapped.  “God, Graham, I don’t know what to do.”  She buried her face in her hands.  “I think I might love you,” she admitted softly, “but you’re already breaking my heart.  This is _not_ how I pictured things going when I met my One.”  When Graham didn’t say anything, Dawn looked up to find him gaping at her, a strange sort of look in his grey eyes.  “Graham?” she said.

                “You love me?” he said, a small smile spreading across his face.

                “You heard that, huh?” she said.  “Did you catch the rest?”  Graham simply grinned widely and swooped in to kiss her.  It was a kiss unlike any Dawn had experienced before, full of passion and need.  Fireworks burst behind her closed lids and suddenly Graham’s transgressions didn’t mean a thing.  When he finally pulled away, once they were both out of breath, all she could say was, “ _Wow._ ”

 

                _The wolf, its white coat gleaming in the moonlight, stood and stared at Giselle, its eerie eyes (one red as blood, the other black as night) fixed unwaveringly on the young woman.  “Hello,” she said softly, as if she were afraid to startle the creature, “you’re very far from home here.  Are you lost?”  The wolf cocked its head to the side and continued to stare at the redhead._

_Hidden behind a tree on the edge of the clearing was the Huntsman.  He watched warily as the young woman, barely out of girlhood, approached his companion with cautious steps.  He was coiled like a spring; ready to pounce in an instant should she prove to be a danger to his dearest friend.  Instead, the young woman with hair the color of burnished copper reached out a steady hand and stroked the wolf on the head.  “You’re such a beautiful boy,” she said, her voice sweet and airy.  “I’ve never seen a wolf quite like you before.  I don’t see many wolves around here at all, really.”_

_The Huntsman, against his better judgement, stepped out into the moonlight.  “You shouldn’t be out alone at night,” he said sternly, “not in this forest.”_

_The young woman gigged and looked over at him, never ceasing to pet the wolf.  “I’ve been coming out here on my own since I was a child,” she said, “night or not.  This is my home; I think I know it as well as any of the creatures who dwell here.  More than you, I think, for I’ve never seen your or your friend around here before.”_

_“We’re travelers,” said the Huntsman, “wanderers.  We have no home and so we make all of the Enchanted Forest ours.”_

_“You’re more than welcome to come rest in my home,” said the young woman kindly.  “It’s not much, but it’s warm and dry.  I live alone, so no one will disturb you.”_

_“Do you often invite strangers into your home?” asked the Huntsman, raising an eyebrow incredulously._

_“I open my home to all who need help,” said the young woman, “whether they be human, animal, or magical being.”_

_“You do realize that’s dangerous,” said the Huntsman.  “Humans are not to be trusted.”_

_The young woman shrugged nonchalantly.  “I prefer to look for the good in everyone,” she said.  “No one’s hurt me yet.  Would you like to stay or not?”_

_“You don’t even know me,” protested the Huntsman._

_“Yes, well, I don’t need to.  You’re someone in need of a place to lay his head for the night.  That’s all I need to know.”_

_“Who_ are _you?” he asked, face full of confused awe._

_“My name is Giselle,” she said, smiling brightly.  “Welcome to Andalasia.”_

“Are you alright, Graham?” asked Dawn, concerned by the far-away look that filled his grey eyes.

                He smiled back uncertainly at her.  “I just…I saw something strange, when I kissed you just now.  A wolf?  I think he was my friend…that sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”

                “Not _that_ crazy,” said Dawn, smiling at him and leaning in to kiss him again.  “I’m still mad at you, by the way,” she added, breathlessly, as they broke apart for a second time.

                “I understand,” said Graham, eyes swirling with confusion and desire.

                She pulled away from him so that they were no longer touching.  “I think…I think I need to sleep on this,” she said.  “We both do.  Can we talk tomorrow?”

                “Are we actually going to talk or will you be avoiding me again?”

                Dawn had the decency to blush.  “Sorry, I don’t handle confrontation well,” she admitted, “but I _promise_ we’ll talk tomorrow.  Lunch at Granny’s?”

                “I’ll be there, at noon,” he promised.

                Dawn smiled and bit her lip nervously.  “Graham…”

                “Yes?”

                She opened her mouth closed it.  “I—goodnight, Graham.”

                “Goodnight, Dawn,” said the older man, smiling gently at her.

                “I’ll see you tomorrow; I won’t avoid you this time, I promise.”

 

                _The Huntsman lay naked in the Queen’s bed, his body covered only by a thin, silken sheet of royal purple.  Regina herself sat at her vanity, poking a pair of silver chain earrings through the holes in her lobes.  “Happy, pet?” she asked, a malicious smile on her ruby lips._

_“You know I’m only here because you hold my heart, your majesty,” he said, his voice lacking all conviction.  He was wearing down and the Queen knew it.  Once a proud and independent Huntsman of the forest, he was now little more than a glorified bed warmer to Regina, subject to her whims and urges._

_“My Queen!”_

_One of Regina’s knights barreled into the room, barely glancing at the naked man in her bed.  “What is it?” she snapped, eyes never leaving her mirror._

_“I bring news from Andalasia,” he said, standing ramrod straight. “News of your aunt.”_

_Regina slowly stood and approached the man, her three-inch heels clicking ominously on the marble floor.  “What of my aunt?” she asked._

_“She disappeared from her palace a week ago and never returned, my Queen.  Three days later, Prince Edward returned with his new bride, bringing tales of Queen Narissa’s demise at the hands of a young maiden.”_

_Regina sneered at the man, rage simmering in her dark eyes, but she held her temper.  “Take a message to my aunt’s men,” she snapped.  “They are to keep me informed of the goings on in Andalasia and they shall be rewarded handsomely for doing so.  You are dismissed.”_

_“I guess you can’t always have your way, your majesty,” said the Huntsman, pulling himself into a seated position._

_Regina flung out a hand and he felt his windpipe tighten as an invisible hand choked him.  “Silence, pet,” she snapped.  “I_ always _get what I want.  That bitch who killed my aunt_ will _pay if it’s the last thing I do.”_

 

                Dawn didn’t get much sleep that night, and what little she _did_ get was fraught with strange dreams and nightmares full of half-familiar people and places.  Finally, around five o’clock, she decided to forgo sleep and take a walk around town.  Dressed in her favorite faded skinny jeans, worn orange converse, and Willow’s old fluffy, pink kitty sweater, she hit the streets of Storybrooke, nodding wordlessly to the few denizens of the town who were up and about at this wee hour of the morning (some heading off to work, others just heading home for the night).  As she passed by the pawn shop, she ran into Mr. Gold, just starting out his day.

                “What are you doing up and about this early, Miss Philip?” the elder Scottish man asked curiously.

                “Couldn’t sleep,” said Dawn, shrugging casually.  “I’ve got too much on my mind.”

                “Do you want to…talk about it?” asked Mr. Gold, pursing his lips as if he’d swallowed something sour.

                Dawn laughed dryly.  “Thanks, but no, Mr. Gold,” she said.  “I just need someplace quiet to sort through my thoughts.  My room at the inn just wasn’t cutting it.  Those walls are thin and my brother snores like a thunderstorm.”

                “Would you perhaps like to open my shop for me this morning?” asked Mr. Gold in an oddly thoughtful gesture.  “I have some errands to run that would keep me from doing so today.  People rarely venture into the shop this early in the day, so you would still get the quiet you so desire.”

                “Sure,” said Dawn, taking his offer, “that sounds great.”

                Mr. Gold handed the brunette a ring of brass keys.  “Here,” he said, “everything you might need to run the shop is on this ring.”

                Dawn looked at the keys curiously.  “How will I know what goes where, though?” she asked.

                “You’re a smart girl,” said Mr. Gold, the ghost of a smirk on his face, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

 

                “Look at this stuff, isn’t it neat?” sang Dawn as she perused the cabinets and cases of the shop.  “Wouldn’t you think my collection’s complete?”  She continued the song in a hum, brushing her fingertips along the glass countertops.

                “Gold, I need to talk to you!” snapped Regina, barging into the shop and staring murderously at Dawn.

                “Mr. Gold isn’t here this morning,” said Dawn calmly, turning to face the mayor.  “Can I help you instead, Mayor Mills?”

                “Where is Gold?” snapped Regina, narrowing her eyes at the taller brunette woman.

                “Not here,” said Dawn, losing her patience.  “Look, you can either ask me for help or come back later ‘cause no amount of glaring is gonna make Mr. Gold magically appear.  He’s out for the morning and you’ll just have to deal with me instead.”

                “Now that I think about it, I _do_ have a bone to pick with you, Miss Philip,” said Regina, smiling maliciously.

                “If this is about me and Graham, let me remind you again that he’s his own person and can choose who he wants to be with all by himself,” she snapped at the older woman.  “You can’t _own_ people, Madam Mayor, despite what your medieval mentality tells you.”

                “Things are a little different here in Storybrooke, Miss Philip,” said Regina.  “ _I’m_ the mayor here and _I_ make the rules.”

                Dawn snorted.  “Yeah, good luck with that, _your majesty_ ,” she said.  “This is America, not feudal Europe.  We do things a bit differently here.  I’d’ve thought that you of all people would know that.”

                “I think you’ll find, Miss Philip, that this is _my_ world,” the older woman purred, “and here I _am_ queen.”

 

                _After his third failed attempt to steal back his heart from the Evil Queen, the Huntsman was ready to give up. A week spent in Regina’s dungeons had originally sounded like a vacation to the soul-weary man, but after his first stint there, he’d learned better.  Down there, Regina’s will was carried out to the letter by her sadistically evil general, a man named John Ratcliffe, who had once been the governor of a prosperous colony until his own men had overthrown him for trying to incite a war with the native inhabitants of the land.  He cringed in fear as the man in question, a large man with a permanent sneer fixed on his haughty face, walked by, but breathed in a sigh of relief when he continued on without stopping._

_“I think there’s someone down here,” he heard a voice (distinctly female) say from down the main corridor of the dungeon._

_“If we don’t’ hurry, we’ll be caught,” he heard a man reply._

_“What if there_ is _someone trapped down there, though?” asked the female.  “Shouldn’t we at least_ try _to help them?”_

_“And risk changing the past even more?” countered the man.  “You’ve already had us rescue one person we probably shouldn’t have.”  The Huntsman furrowed his brow in confusion.  Change the past?  What was_ that _supposed to mean?_

_“Neal…”_

_The man sighed.  “Fine,” he said, “but don’t blame me if this blows up in our faces.”_

_The woman scoffed.  “What are the chances of that happening?” she said._

_The Huntsman could practically hear the raised eyebrow in the man’s words. “Now that you’ve said it, we’re practically doomed,” he said dryly._

_The woman scoffed, “You’re just paranoid, Neal,” she said._

_“For good reason,” said the man._

_The Huntsman shrank back into the shadows of his cell as the pair finally came into view.  The woman—he recognized her from the ball earlier—was still dressed in a ruby-red ball gown and had her pale blonde hair piled artfully on top of her head.  The man (who was less memorable than his companion) was darker in coloring, with short cropped brown hair and dark eyes; he was dressed in leathers and furs, more akin to a formal version of the Huntsman’s own preferred clothing.  “Over here, Neal,” called the woman, her eyes alighting on the shifting shadows caused by the Huntsman’s nervous fidgeting._

_The man trotted over and the pair stood in front of his cell, staring wide-eyed at the gaunt, haunted figure he had become.  “Is that who I think it is?” asked the man, his dark eyes wide with shock._

_“Yeah,” said the woman, her voice choked.  “I knew I recognized him earlier.”_

_“I thought he was with Reg—with the queen, though,” said the man (Neal, the woman kept calling him)._

_The woman shook her head.  “Not by choice,” she said darkly._

_Finally finding his voice, the Huntsman spoke.  “Who are you people?” he asked.  “Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be down here?”_

_“I’m…Leia and this is…Han,” said the woman, stumbling a bit over the names; false identities, obviously, though he was in no position to cast stones at the moment._

_“You called me something at the ball,” said the Huntsman, stepping forward out of the shadows and staring up at the woman’s unfamiliar face.  “I don’t know you, or the name you called me, but you were looking right at me.”_

_“You…remind me of someone I know, that’s all,” said Leia nervously.  He could tell that was another lie, but it wasn’t malicious, so he let it go._

_“Why are you down here, anyway?” asked the man—Han.  “Aren’t you one of the queen’s knights?”_

_“Not by choice,” said the Huntsman darkly._

_“Then why do you follow her?” Han asked._

_“Because she holds my heart.”_

Instead of meeting for lunch at Granny’s, Graham caught up with Dawn as she was leaving Gold’s shop.  He pulled her into the alley and told her what had been happening to him.  “I know it sounds crazy, Dawn,” he said as he finished his story, gripping the willowy brunette’s arms tightly, “but I _know_ it’s true.  I don’t feel anything because the queen— _Regina_ —has my heart.”

                Dawn stared at the handsome man, blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she mulled over what he had just told her.  “I-I do believe you, Graham,” she said slowly.  “I’m just not sure yet what to do about this.  It’s a lot to take in.”

                “You really don’t think I’m crazy,” said Graham, his voice filled with relief and awe.  “You are _wonderful_ , Dawn.”  He drew her close and kissed her forehead tenderly.

                Dawn giggled.  “Let’s just say I’ve had a lot of experience with the bizarre and unexplained,” she said mysteriously. “You know, if you’ve got questions like this, you really should go talk to Henry about his book.”

                “That’s what Mary-Margaret told me,” said Graham, frowning thoughtfully.  “You really think the kid can help me?”

                “Sure I do,” said Dawn.  “Squirt’s smart as hell and he’s real serious about his storybook.  Do you want me to come with you?”

                “Do you mind?” asked Graham, sheepishly ducking his head and tucking his hands into his pockets like a schoolboy with a crush.

                “I wouldn’t have offered if I did,” said Dawn.  “I’ll have to let you go in by yourself if Regina’s home, though,” she added.  “Madam Mayor doesn’t like me very much.”

                “I wonder why,” said Graham, smirking and planting a soft kiss to her chestnut hair.  “You seem perfectly likeable to me.”

                “Yes, well, I think you’re a bit biased.”

                “Me?” said Graham with an air of faux innocence.

                “Yes you,” said Dawn, rolling her big blue eyes and shoving him playfully towards his squad car.  “Let’s get going, Romeo.  Clock’s ticking here.”

 

                _“What’s your plan?” asked the Huntsman, following Han and Leia down the dark corridors of Regina’s dungeons._

_“Get out, get Snow White and Prince Charming back together, get home,” said Leia shortly._

_“What are we going to do with them?” asked Han, gesturing vaguely at the Huntsman and the brown-skinned woman trailing behind them._

_“I haven’t quite figured that part out yet,” Leia admitted._

_“We can hear you, you know,” said the cocoa skinned woman sharply.  “If it matters at all, I’m going to find my family once we’re out of here.”_

_Leia and Han shared a look.  “Look, lady, I don’t know how to tell you this,” said Han, “but you can’t just—”_

_“I’m sick and bloody tired of people telling me what I can and cannot do,” the dark-skinned woman snapped.  “I’m going to find my family and that’s final!”_

_“What about you?” asked Leia, stopping briefly to look the Huntsman in the eye.  “What are you going to do once we’re out?”_

_“I can’t leave,” said the Huntsman, his voice flat and dead.  “I’m bound to stay here as long as the Queen holds my heart.”_

_“But if you leave, you’ll be safe,” protested Leia, her green eyes earnest._

_The Huntsman shook his head.  “It doesn’t work like that,” he said.  “As soon as she learns I’m gone, the Queen_ will _kill me.  I can do more good here, alive and her slave, than I can free and dead.”_

“So I’m the Huntsman?”

                “It totally makes sense,” said Henry staring earnestly up at the sheriff, sitting beside him on his bed.

                “No, I think Henry’s on to something here,” said Dawn, her eyes darting between the man at her side and the picture on the page of her nephew’s book.  Obscured though the man’s face was in the picture, she could tell without a doubt that it was Graham.  “I haven’t known you long, Graham, but I’d recognize you anywhere.”

                Henry turned the page of the book.  The next pictured showed Queen Regina standing in front of a stone mausoleum.  “What’s that?” asked Graham, stopping the boy from turning any more pages and pointing.

                “That’s the queen’s vault,” said Henry.  “It’s where she keeps all the hearts she took.”

                “Do you think it came over with her?” asked Dawn, studying the picture with intent focus.

                “I don’t know,” said Henry.  “I’ve never seen it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not here somewhere.”

                Dawn stood abruptly, nearly knocking the book out of Henry’s grasp in the process.  “I’ve gotta go,” she said.

                “What, now?” said Henry.

                “Sorry squirt,” said Dawn, ruffling the boy’s hair affectionately, “but I promised my adviser I’d have this paper submitted for her before midnight tonight.  If it wasn’t so important…”

                “I understand,” said Graham, squeezing Dawn’s hand affectionately.  “Go do your scholarly thing.  I’ll see you tomorrow?”

                “Count on it,” said Dawn, smiling down at the sheriff.  She gave him a quick peck on the cheek.  “See you later Graham, bye squirt.”

 

                _The Huntsman collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath, as Queen Regina loosened her grip on his heart.  “You let them escape,” she hissed, “and what’s more, you actively_ helped _them!  It’s because of_ you _that Snow White was able to slip through my fingers yet again.”  She stared dispassionately down at the man at her feet.  “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she said with a sneer, “otherwise I would have killed you a long time ago.”_

_“I suppose you want me to thank you for my life,” the Huntsman gasped, his voice tight._

_“Well, I certainly wouldn’t object,” she said with a smirk._

_The Huntsman stared up at her, defiance burning in his grey eyes.  “The only reason I’m still here is because you hold my heart,” he said.  “I’ve sacrificed much of my honor because of you, but I will_ never _beg you for what you took from me.”_

_Regina’s face twisted with rage and she squeezed his heart tighter.  The Huntsman collapsed to the ground again, gasping like a fish out of water.  “Watch your tongue, Huntsman,” she said, her voice bitter.  “Your life is_ mine _to do with as I please.  If I tell you to beg for your life you will do so.”  She smirked evilly and added, “Whether you like it or not.”_

Dawn knew she’d been taking an awful lot of risks lately with her portals, but it was the quickest way she knew to travel.  The picture of the queen’s vault in Henry’s storybook looked like a mausoleum to her and, as a former Sunnydale girl, she knew more about mausoleums than most.  Teleporting to Storybrooke’s graveyard was risky, yes, but less risky than say trying to teleport directly into the Mills mausoleum.  As the glowing green portal closed behind her, she glanced around to make sure she was alone before taking off through the dark rows of graves.  Her target was obvious; there was only one mausoleum in the entire graveyard and as she approached, she saw that the family crest matched the drawing from Henry’s book.

                “Guess this is the place,” she said to herself.  She then squared her shoulders and walked into the building.

                It didn’t take her more than a minute inside to figure out where Regina’s vault might be.  Trained as she was at spotting demons and things that go bump in the night, she was quick to spot the skid marks that had to be from someone shoving aside the marble tomb that sat at the center of the mausoleum.  “A hidden passage, of course,” she said with a grin.  “Classic.”

                It took all her less than considerable strength to move the coffin even a little, but that was all she needed.  Once she caught a glimpse of the secret stairs, she pushed the heavy coffin back into place and (saying a quick prayer) opened a portal to them.

                Thankfully Dawn’s luck held out, though it was a close thing.  Her head scraped against the bottom of the coffin as she stepped out the other side, causing the clumsy young woman to trip and fall down the rest of the steps.  She came to rest at the bottom in a heap of gangly limbs and silky hair.  “Ow,” she moaned, “remind me not to do that again.  And I’m talking to myself.  Bloody wonderful.”  She grumbled a bit as she stood up and brushed the dirt off of her jeans.  “Now, if I was a vault of hearts, where would I be?”  She slowly walked a circle around the room taking a good look into each branching corridor.  She frowned when nothing jumped out at her.  “Okay, I’m looking for a vault full of hearts,” she said, talking herself through her dilemma.  “If they’re still beating, I _should_ be able to hear them, right?”  She stopped in the middle of the room, closed her eyes, and listened.

                _Thump-thump.  Thump-thump.  Thump-thump.  Thump-thump._

Dawn smiled and opened her eyes.  “ _There’s_ the thump-thump,” she said.  She stepped forward and pulled back the red velvet curtains to reveal a wall full of golden boxes, each pulsing steadily with a glowing reddish-pink light.  “Now which one of you belongs to Graham?” she muttered, running her fingers delicately along the wall.  She closed her eyes once more and brought to mind everything she knew of Graham, from his good looks and his confidence, to his fears and shortcomings.  “There you are,” she breathed as her hand came to rest over a box near the middle of the wall.  She pushed gently and the box popped out of place.  Dawn opened the box and reverently removed the heart nestled inside.  “Don’t worry Graham,” she whispered to the heart in her hands, “Regina will never have a hold over you ever again.”

                A sudden noise from the vault entrance startled her and Dawn nearly dropped the heart.  “Crap,” she muttered, hastily stuffing the heart into her bag.  She then opened another box at random and placed that heart into Graham’s, hoping that it would keep Regina from knowing that anything was amiss.  She heard footsteps on the stairs and hurried to replace the box and close the curtains before opening a portal into her hotel room.  She glanced back as the portal closed behind her and saw the barest hint of a familiar black clad woman before it was gone.

 

                _“Once upon a time, a lonely young maiden lived in a small cottage in the woods of the great kingdom of Andalasia.  She grew up alone, no family or friends aside from the woodland creatures who visited her in her solitude.  It was because of their company that the young maiden made it through her childhood with her sanity intact.  All her young life she dreamed of one thing; that her true love would find her and rescue her from her unending solitude._

_“Eventually her prince came and they were to be married.  He was a handsome prince, brave and dashing, but he was not very bright.  The girl herself was young and naïve, putting her trust in the wrong person.  She was thrown from the only world she had ever known into a strange land without magic where she was left, again, alone and friendless._

_“This was not the end of her story, though.  This was only the beginning.  In this strange land, the young maiden found true love in the most unexpected of places.  He was not a prince, as she had always dreamed, yet she loved him dearly.  He was kind and intelligent, though life had left his heart scarred, which nearly kept them apart._

_“Yet as always, true love prevailed and the couple was granted their happily ever after.  This, however, was only the beginning of their tale.  The maiden and her husband pulled together a family from children left unwanted and unloved, creating from their diverse backgrounds a home filled with love and hope._

_“Years passed and their family grew.  The maiden and her husband always had room in their hearts and their home for more children, some born of their loins, others not, but all were equal in the couple’s hearts.  As the children grew, so did their family.  Through marriage and through birth, despite sickness and death, the maiden’s family endured and thrived._

_“The maiden in turn became a wife, a mother, and a grandmother.  She watched with joy and pride as her children grew and thrived, her heart bursting with love and her husband by her side.  Every day through every year she thanked the fates that she had come to this land and found her love and happiness.  She knew that she wouldn’t change the life she had for the world._

_“The story is not yet over, Dawn, but the maid’s part in it is coming to a close.  It now belongs to her progeny, her daughters and her sons, her grandchildren both born and yet to be.  They are her future, her hope, and her reason for living.  It is through them that her story will continue on through the ages, even after her death.  For death, as all her family has learned, is but a continuation of the story; not something to be feared, but something to be welcomed with open arms at the proper time._

_“But the story is not over, Dawn.  It is time for you to write your part.  It is time for you to_ live _, my darling.  Live your life with love, as I have, and you_ will _find your happiness, I promise.”_

                Dawn was getting ready to leave to find Graham when there was a knock on her door.  “Graham,” she said breathlessly.  “I was just going to come looking for you.”  She opened the door wider to let him in, without issuing a verbal invitation.  “Did you find what you were looking for?”

                Graham sat down on Dawn’s bed.  “No,” he said, “but I broke things off with Regina.  I’m done being with someone who makes me feel like I’m nothing.”  He took Dawn’s hands in his own and looked into her eyes.  “I want to be with you, Dawn, if you’ll still have me.”

                Dawn melted.  “Oh Graham,” she said.  Then she suddenly surged forward, kissing him with all the passion that she could muster.  He kissed her back just as passionately.

                Eventually they had to pull apart.  Graham rested his forehead against hers and stared at her in awe.  “Dawn,” he said breathlessly, his eyes filled with so much love, “I remember.  I remember _everything_.”

                Dawn’s smile could rival the sun in intensity.  “That’s _wonderful_ Graham,” she said, kissing him again.  “Now I have something for you.”  She stepped back and grabbed her black and red Minnie Mouse hobo bag from the desk.  “Close your eyes.”

                Graham obliged.  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he asked.

                “Wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you, now would it?” she said playfully.  “You can open your eyes now.”

                Graham obliged her and stared at her cupped hands in awe.  “Is that…?”

                “Yeah,” said Dawn, smiling softly.  “I hope you like it.”

                “Where did you find it?” he asked, stretching out his hands slowly to touch the beating heart in Dawn’s hands.

                “In Regina’s vault,” she replied.

                “Emma and I looked all over the mausoleum and we didn’t find anything,” he said.  “How did you find it?”

                “Her vault’s hidden _under_ the mausoleum,” she said.  “As for how I found it…well, magic’s not quite as absent in this world as you might think.  Would you like your heart back now, Graham?”

                “There’s no one I’d trust it more with than you,” he said.

                Dawn blushed and kissed him once more.  “As flattered as I am, I think it’s been parted from you for long enough.  Now I’ve never done this before, so bear with me.”  She gently pressed the glowing heart against his breast.  “Tell me if it hurts,” she whispered before pushing it into him.

                Graham gasped, his eyes wide, as the organ was returned to him.  As Dawn gently removed her hand, he grabbed it.  “Thank you,” he said, his voice filled with too many emotions to name.

                “You’re very welcome, Graham,” she replied, squeezing his hand gently.  “I’m just glad I could help.”

                “You’ve done more than just help me, Dawn,” he said.  “You’ve made me who I used to be, before the curse.  Emma may be this town’s savior, but you’re _my_ savior Dawn.”

                “Stop it, you’ll make me blush,” said Dawn, her face tinted pink.

                “Can I do anything to help _you_?” he asked.  “You’ve done so much for me.”

                “Can you just—Will you stay with me?  Just for tonight?” asked Dawn, gaze fixed on the floor.  “I don’t want to _do_ anything…I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”

                “Of course,” replied Graham, pulling Dawn down onto the bed beside him and holding her close.  Eventually the pair drifted off to sleep, entangled together like two halves of a whole.

               

                Across town, outside The Rabbit Hole, a middle aged man named Cerdic Lute dropped dead, apparently of a heart attack.  He wasn’t found until late the next morning.  There was no one who knew him, so there was no one to mourn him.

 

_“In the frozen land of Nador they were forced to eat Robin’s minstrels…and there was much rejoicing. (Yay.)”_

_-from Monty Python and the Holy Grail_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So the very last flashback kinda came out of nowhere, honestly. It's a little strange, I'll admit, but I decided to keep it anyway. It's supposed to be Giselle telling a grown up Dawn a bedtime story after she's had her heart broken once again. Also, Cerdic Lute is meant to be one of Sir Robin's minstrels, hence the Monty Python quote.
> 
> AN2: Ms. Elizabeth Pierce (mentioned in the first flashback) is Dawn's adviser at Oxford and Giles' fiancee.


	8. Chapter 8: Poor Unfortunate Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dawn meet a new (potential) ally and Jefferson's childhood is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So if you read Do Not Dare Not to Dare, you'll know that the reason I haven't posted anything lately is because my grandma died about two months ago and I'm also trying to find a full-time/better paying job than the monstrosity I currently am at. I'm slowly getting back into the swing of things here, but my updates will still be as sporadic as ever, sorry.
> 
> Warning: Minor & implied child abuse in this chapter.
> 
> Some spoilers for Once Season 3.

** Chapter 8: Poor Unfortunate Souls **

****

                The look on Regina’s face when Dawn walked into Granny’s Diner the next morning wrapped up in Graham’s arms was totally worth anything the Evil Queen could cook up.  Even better was the look on her face when Graham, Dawn still held close by his side, marched up to Emma and handed her his badge.

                Emma, sitting in a booth with Gunn and baby Amy, stared dumbly at the gold star he held out to her.  “What’s this?” she asked.

                “The sheriff’s badge,” he said.

                “Well, obviously,” the blonde replied with a roll of her eyes.  “I mean, why are you handing it to me?”

                “As of this morning, I’m resigning my position as sheriff.  Congratulations, Emma, as my deputy, you get first dibs on the job.”

                “Not so fast Miss Swan,” said Regina, stepping forward between Emma and Graham, an evil smirk on her red painted lips.  “As mayor, it is my right to appoint a new sheriff, should the position become vacant.”  She plucked the badge from Graham’s still outstretched hand with her perfectly manicured fingers, “I can assure you, Miss Swan, that you are _not_ the person I would entrust with _my_ town’s safety.  No.  The new sheriff of Storybrooke will be someone who the people can trust; someone like…Sidney Glass.”

                Dawn glared at the tall, dark skinned man who stood behind Regina with a too-sincere-to-be-real smile on his vaguely handsome face.  She found something especially disturbing about the reporter’s eyes; those brown eyes held a strange shine that made her feel almost as if she were looking into a mirror.  “You’ve _got_ to be kidding,” she snarled.  “You’d trust _this_ joker to protect the town over my _sister_?  Are you _really_ that petty, Madam Mayor?”

                Regina narrowed her dark eyes at Dawn and stepped toward her menacingly.  “I think you’ll find, Miss Philip,” she said so that only Dawn could hear, “that in _my_ town I _always_ get what I want.”

 

                _Killian Jones, captain of_ The Jolly Roger _, looked down in wonder at the tiny being he cradled in his hands.  He had a son, something he never thought he’d have.  “He’s perfect, love,” he said with a soft smile._

_“We did good, Killian,” said Milah with a tired smile on her pale face, her dark curls plastered to her cheeks with sweat._

_“Mama?” came a sleepy voice from the open door of the cabin.  “Waz goin’ on?”_

_Killian narrowed his icy blue eyes at the small boy standing in the shadows.  “What are you doing here, boy?” he snapped._

_The boy shrank back.  “I-I had a n-nightmare,” he stuttered, his voice still pitched high with youth._

_Killian placed the tiny infant back in his mother’s hands and stepped menacingly toward the doorway.  “Why did you come bother your mother with your little problems?” he hissed, grabbing the boy by the shoulder and yanking him into the corridor outside.  “She’s tired right now and doesn’t have time to deal with_ you _.”_

_“But Papa—”_

_The boy bit back a sob as Killian slapped him harshly across the cheek.  “What did I tell you about calling me that, boy,” he snapped, eyes cold with fury._

_“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” the boy stuttered, his wide blue eyes filling with tears as his little hand jerked up to touch his reddening cheek._

_“You will answer me when I ask you a question boy!” said Killian, shaking the boy harshly by his thin arms._

_“Y-you said n-never to call you P-papa again,” said the boy fearfully._

_“Glad to see there_ is _a brain in there somewhere after all,” said Killian, patting the boy’s red cheek condescendingly.  “Now, don’t_ ever _call me that again, Jefferson, do you understand?”_

_The boy knew that The Captain was serious when he actually used his name, for once.  “Y-yes Sir,” he said, lowering his eyes to the ground._

_“Good boy,” Captain Killian Jones said, patting him on the head like a dog.  “Now run off back to bed; your mother doesn’t have time for you right now.”_

_Jefferson watched with tears in his eyes as Killian turned his back and walked back into the cabin, without giving the boy another thought.  The boy gave a longing look at the cabin where his mother lay, but (fearing The Captain’s ire) he turned and scurried down the hall back to his small cabin._

Dawn was a little rougher than normal as she swept the floor of Mr. Gold’s shop after closing up for the night.  She’d been in a mood all day (of which she was well aware), but luckily customers of the pawn shop were used to dealing with a prickly proprietor.  “Dawn,” called Mr. Gold from the back room, where he’d been working on something that smelled really nasty for most of the day, “I have an errand I need you to run.”

“What is it?” asked Dawn warily, leaning the broom against the counter and poking her head through the curtain that led to the back room.

Mr. Gold didn’t even look up from his worktable as he spoke.  “I need you to deliver something to a customer out on the edge of town,” he said.

“Isn’t it a little late to be doing deliveries?” asked Dawn, eyebrow raised incredulously.

“This particular customer is something of a hermit,” said Mr. Gold, dark eyes still focused on his work.  “He prefers discretion from his visitors.  At this time of night, there shouldn’t be many people out and about in his neck of the woods.”

“Okay, I’ll bite,” said Dawn.  “What is it I’m delivering to this hermit guy?”

Mr. Gold finally set down what he was working on and stood up.  Limping and leaning heavily on his cane, he crossed the room and reached up to pull down a large telescope that was perched precariously on the top of an old-fashioned armoire.  “This,” he said, holding out the device to Dawn.

Dawn took the telescope with an _oomph_.  “So where am I taking this?” she asked, readjusting her hold on the instrument.

“Here’s the address,” said Mr. Gold, handing her a small scrap of paper.  “Don’t be out too late now, dearie.”

“Don’t worry about me, Mr. Gold,” she said, smiling slightly, “I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself.”

 

                _Jefferson glared at the dark haired intruder, his eyes chips of frozen blue.  Who did this boy think he was, following The Captain around like a pathetic little puppy dog?  Jefferson knew better than anyone that The Captain only loved one living person, aside from himself; his son (and Jefferson’s baby brother), Liam Jones II.  That this stranger could even_ begin _to worm his way into The Captain’s cold heart was more than Jefferson’s own fragile organ could bear._

_“Boy!” barked The Captain.  “Get over here!”_

_Sulking, Jefferson slowly walked across the deck to The Captain like a man condemned.  “Yes, Sir?” he said through tightly gritted teeth._

_“Don’t take that tone with me, boy,” snapped The Captain, holding his hooked hand threateningly under the young boy’s chin._

_“Yes, Sir,” Jefferson said stiffly, cornflower blue eyes fixed on the deck just behind The Captain._

_“That’s better, lad,” said The Captain, giving Jefferson a harsh, condescending pat on the cheek.  “Now, show Baelfire here to Liam’s room; he’ll be sharing with the two of you while he’s my guest.”_

_Jefferson gritted his teeth.  “Yes, Captain, Sir,” he said._

_“Go on, Baelfire lad,” said The Captain.  “The boy will show you to your new quarters.”_

Dawn stared up in awe at the large mansion as the cab pulled up into the driveway.  She’d never seen a house so big in Storybrooke before; it was even larger than the mayor’s.  She paid the driver, pulled the bright orange sports bag that held the telescope out of the backseat, and slung it over her shoulder before walking up the steps to the front door.  She banged the knocker against the wood door three times and waited.

                She heard a shuffling on the other side of the door and then the sound of locks and chains being undone.  The door cracked open and all she could see of the man on the other side was a wary blue eye and a shock of perfectly coiffed brown hair.  “Hello,” she said, smiling in what she hoped was a friendly manner, “my name’s Dawn.  Mr. Gold sent me over to deliver your telescope.”

                The man opened the door further.  He was tall and lean with the strangest fashion sense Dawn had seen of anyone outside of the big city.  He wore black leather trousers and a red brocade vest topped off with a darker red cravat.  “He’s finished already?” the man said, eyes still wary.  “I wasn’t expecting that until next week.”

                Dawn shrugged.  “I just work for the man,” she said.  “I don’t really question when he asks me to do something.”

                A wry smile spread across the man’s face.  “That can be a dangerous thing to do,” he said.

                “Yeah, I kinda picked up on that.”  She shifted slightly, readjusting the bag on her back.  “So…can I come in or what?”  The man’s icy gaze remained wary, but he opened the door all the way and gestured her inside.  Dawn smiled as she stepped past him.  “So,” she said, taking in the opulent foyer, “you got a name?  Or should I just call you Blue-Eyes?”

                “You’re one to talk there, Stretch,” said the man, small smile twitching at his lips.

                “Hey, I already told you my name,” said Dawn.  “It’s your turn.”

                “I’m Jefferson,” the man said.  “Now, you said Mr. Gold sent you over with my telescope?”

                “Yeah,” said Dawn, lifting the strap over her head and pulling the large sports bag off her back.  “Where do you want me to put it?”

                “The coffee table’s fine,” said Jefferson, motioning Dawn towards the living room.  “Why don’t you go on in while I grab Gold’s payment?”

                Dawn stepped into the cozy, modern room, set the bag down, and took a seat on the plush sofa.  A few minutes later, Jefferson returned carrying a tray with a porcelain teapot, two cups, and cream and sugar bowls.  “You have a really nice house,” said Dawn as the older man set the tray down beside the bag and handed her a sealed envelope, which she accepted graciously.  “Do you live here alone?”

                Jefferson hummed non-committally.  “Would you like some tea?” he asked, holding one of the matching pale powder blue cups out to his guest.

                “Do you have any agave nectar?” asked Dawn, accepting the teacup.

                “What?” asked Jefferson, cocking his head curiously to the side.

                “Agave nectar,” repeated Dawn.  “It’s actually one of my few normal tastes, apparently—according to my dad, at least.  It’s a syrupy sweetener and it’s the only thing I’ll take in my tea.  Do you have any?”

                “Ah, considering I’ve never heard of it before, I’m gonna have to say no.”

                “Too bad,” Dawn said.  “Got any cocoa?  Or coke?”

                “Ah, I can check,” said Jefferson, turning back to the kitchen.  A knock suddenly sounded like a drum through the cavernous halls of the house.  “Excuse me,” said the eccentric man with a debonair grin.  “I’ll be right back.”

_The short walk across_ The Jolly Roger’s _deck to the boys’ cabin was filled with awkward silence.  Finally the older boy spoke.  “So, how long have you been on this ship?” he asked curiously._

_“Always,” replied Jefferson shortly._

_“What’s it like living on a pirate ship?” asked Baelfire._

_“What’s it like_ not _living on a pirate ship?” Jefferson countered._

_“Fair enough,” said Baelfire, raising his hands in surrender.  “So if you’ve lived here your whole life, are your parents pirates?”_

_Jefferson’s face grew stony.  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said._

_“I understand,” said Baelfire, taking a chance and reaching out to squeeze the younger boy’s shoulder.  “My mother died when I was very small and my father recently abandoned me.”_

_“At least you know who your father is,” said Jefferson bitterly.  “The man I always thought was my father won’t acknowledge me as his son because I_ might _be another man’s.”_

_Baelfire’s brow knitted together in thought.  “Is-is that why The Captain seems to dislike you so?”_

_Jefferson snorted.  “Dislike isn’t strong enough a word to describe The Captain’s feelings toward me.  He curses my very existence.  He_ is _a good captain, though,” he admitted, “and he dotes on my baby brother—then again, he’s sure that Liam is his son.”_

When Jefferson returned, he was white as a sheet.  “It’s for you,” he said.  “Your ride is here.”

“Oh goody,” she said, bouncing off the couch with a spring in her step.  “Hi Graham.  I didn’t know you were stopping by to get me.  How’s the town drama level?”

“Getting worse,” said Graham with a wry smile.  “You wouldn’t think that quitting my job would cause this much of a stir, aye?”

“I guess you’re just that popular, sweetie,” said Dawn, giving her boyfriend (and boy, did she love the sound of _that_ ) a quick peck on the cheek.

Graham snorted.  “Aye, something like that.  Oh, by the way, I have your purse; you left it at the shop.  Mr. Gold asked me to bring it to you when I stopped by to see you.”

“Oh, thanks Graham,” said Dawn, taking the care-worn hobo bag from him.  “I didn’t even realize I’d forgotten it.”

As the bag switched hands, something fell out of it and clattered softly to the floor.  Jefferson, the only one who’d noticed, bent down to pick the object up.  He silently turned the small piece of broken glass over and over in his hands, mesmerized.  “Where did you get this?” he asked, sharp blue eyes darting up to meet Dawn’s.

“That?” said Dawn, peering curiously at the shard of glass in Jefferson’s hand.  “That’s just some trinket I found a while back near the mines.  I thought it looked cool.”

“You’re sure there’s nothing more to it?”

“What, you think I’m planning something nefarious with a glass shard?” she scoffed.  “Please.  I’m _much_ classier than that.  I’m more of a shovel girl, honestly.”

“Why do you ask?” asked Graham, carefully watching the strange man who was staring eerily at his girlfriend.

“It just seems…odd…to carry something like that around if there’s no story behind it,” said Jefferson.

“I never said there wasn’t,” said Dawn, eying Jefferson studiously.  She kept getting the feeling that he knew more than he was letting on, but she didn’t want something like this getting back to Regina if she was wrong.  She had to be sure before she said anything more…but how to test him…

“I know this,” said Graham suddenly, staring at the glass piece in Jefferson’s hand.  He turned stricken, grey eyes on Dawn.  “How do I know this?”

Dawn frowned.  “I thought you remembered everything,” she said.

“You _remember_ ,” said Jefferson, sharply bright eyes fixating on Graham.

“Hold up boys, let’s not discuss this here,” said Dawn, stepping between the two men.  “You never know where Madam Mayor has planted her spies.  Why don’t we all go back to my place and we’ll talk more there.”

 

The unlikely trio gathered in Dawn’s small room at the inn, each arriving separately as to minimize suspicion.  Dawn was honestly surprised that Jefferson had even agreed to come in the first place; she could tell that the man was wary and nervous, but his curiosity won out in the end.

“So, Graham, why don’t you start this little meeting of ours?” said Dawn with strained cheerfulness.

“What am I supposed to say, Dawn?” the former sheriff asked.

“Tell Jefferson what you remember about your past—your _real_ past.”

“Let me guess,” said Jefferson bluntly, piercing blue eyes boring into the other man’s soul, “you remember your life in the Enchanted Forest.  Who were you?  Some sort of sheriff, maybe?  No, a knight; one of Regina’s, perhaps?”

“Not by choice,” said Graham, his left hand unconsciously settling over his chest where his heart beat a steady tattoo.  He took a steadying breath and began his tale.  “It all started when The Evil Queen approached me with a particularly troublesome task…”

 

_Jefferson watched with wary eyes as the older boy explored the cabin they would be sharing for the foreseeable future.  He watched as he poked around the sparse bunk beds and stared at the contrast of the opulent fur-lined cradle set by the room’s single, small window.  “This place is almost as big as the hut I grew up in,” said Baelfire in awe._

_Jefferson shrugged and shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his worn, canvas pants.  “I don’t really spend much time in here,” he said._

_“Why not?” asked the younger boy curiously._

_Jefferson ignored him.  “You can choose which bunk you’d like,” he said.  “It makes no difference to me.”_

_Baelfire frowned.  “Are you sure?  It’s your room; I wouldn’t want to put you out.”_

_Jefferson snorted.  “This is_ Liam’s _room,” he said bitterly.  “I just live here so I can help take care of him.”_

_“Where is your brother, anyway?” asked Baelfire curiously.  “I’ve yet to see him.”_

_“During the day, The Captain often lets him play in his own cabin.  I’m not allowed in there.  He usually has one of the crew bring him back here when he’s ready for a nap.”  A sharp knock sounded on the cabin door.  “Speak of the devil.”_

_Jefferson opened the door and had his brother practically shoved into his arms.  “Cap’n says get th’ kid into bed,” said the crewman gruffly, turning on his heel and slamming the door behind him before the boy could say a word._

_“Good night to you too,” grumbled Jefferson.  He gently bounced his baby brother, who had begun to whine, and shushed him.  “There, there, Liam.  Mean old Salty Joe’s gone now.  Jefferson’s here; it’s okay.”_

_Baelfire watched curiously as Jefferson changed the baby’s diaper and put him into his night gown.  “You’re really good with him,” he said._

_“I’ve had a lot of practice,” said Jefferson, with a shrug.  He slowly paced the room, bouncing his brother lightly to get him to fall asleep.  “I’ve been doing this since Mother died.”_

 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” said Mary-Margaret, bodily pulling Dawn into the apartment even before she could take off her jacket.  “Emma’s freaking out.”

Dawn managed to wiggle out of her jean jacket before she was pushed down onto the couch, a smirking Graham slowly sauntering behind her.  She frowned at him and tugged him down beside her.  “I suffer, you suffer, buddy,” she hissed into his ear.  She turned her attention to her sister.  “What’s going on, Em?”

“Your boss— _Mr. Gold_ —offered to help me with the election,” said Emma, frustration evident in her voice.

“So why don’t you take him up on his offer?” suggested Dawn.

“It won’t matter if I go to Gold or not, I’m still going to lose,” said Emma.

“Why do you say that?” said Dawn.

“This election is a sham,” said Emma angrily, pacing back and forth across the small living room of the apartment she shared with Mary-Margaret.

                “Of course it is,” said Dawn, lounging on the worn sofa with Graham, their fingers loosely entwined, “but that doesn’t mean that you can’t make this work in your favor.  Once again, I think you should take Mr. Gold up on his offer.”

                “Dawn!”

                “No seriously, think about it,” insisted Dawn, leaning forward and staring at her sister with a feverishly intense gleam in her eyes.  “Who’s the only person in town who’s more feared than Regina?”

                “Gold,” said Graham, understanding dawning in his eyes.

                “Exactly,” said Dawn.  “So why not use that to your advantage?”

 

                Dawn was woken rather rudely from her sleep by the obnoxious sound of sirens passing by.  She groaned and buried her face in her pillow, trying to go back to sleep.  She had almost succeeded when the sound of her phone blaring Lady Gaga’s _Poker Face_ cut that dream off at the knees.  “What, Emma?” she practically growled.  She listened in a half daze as Emma babbled on about Gold and smelly sheep skin and fire and Regina.  “Slow down, Em,” she said, “you’re not making any sense.”

                “Regina and I got caught in a fire in Town Hall tonight.  We’re both fine, but I think Gold set the whole thing up to make me look like a hero.  I found some of the smelly, _flammable_ sheep skin that he’d been working with in his shop earlier today outside the building.”

                “So?  Maybe it’s all just one big coincidence,” said Dawn with a big yawn.

                “Buffy doesn’t believe in coincidences,” grumbled Emma childishly.

                “So?  _You’re_ not Buffy.”

                “I’m beginning to think she’s got the right idea with this, though.”

 

                _Jefferson’s least favorite time—day or night—was the time that The Captain spent in the boys’ cabin with Liam.  Most of the time, he was able to avoid The Captain, but at night there was nowhere to hide.  He therefore often spent his nights wide awake and alert, finding various hiding places to sleep in during the day.  The arrival of Baelfire was an unexpected complication to his routine and he wasn’t quite sure how to deal with that.  Change, in his eight years of experience, was almost always bad.  In fact, the only good change he could think of was his baby brother’s birth._

_“What’s the matter?” asked Baelfire, watching the younger boy curiously as he wandered jerkily around the cabin performing his nightly tasks._

_“It’s time for bed,” he said, distracted.  “I have to get ready.”_

_“I don’t understand; why is this so important?  Is something going to happen?”_

_“_ He _comes at night,” said Jefferson, blue eyes wide.  “He comes for Liam at night.”  He looked over at the baby sleeping soundly in his cradle.  “He’ll be here and he doesn’t leave and he…he…”_

_“What does he do, Jefferson?” asked Baelfire gently._

_Jefferson sat down heavily on the bottom bunk and buried his face in his hands.  “Sometimes nothing,” he said.  “Sometimes he just sits and watches Liam or rocks him.  Sometimes, though, he-he hurts me.  He-He yells at me, curses me, and then beats me.  He calls me a m-monster and a bastard and then he h-hurts me.”_

_Baelfire frowned.  “Why don’t you leave, Jefferson?  Why stay?”_

_“I can’t leave the cabin at night; he’d punish me for leaving Liam alone, even for a minute.”_

_“Leave the ship, then,” said Baelfire furiously.  “Take Liam with you, if you want.  He shouldn’t be treating you like this, even if he’s_ not _your father.”_

_“Sometimes, I pretend he is,” confessed Jefferson quietly.  “I know it’s pathetic, but he the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had.”_

_Baelfire squeezed the younger boy’s shoulder in comfort.  “I understand, I think,” he said.  “My father used to be a good man, but he let the power of dark magic get to his head and he eventually chose that power over me.”_

_“At least he acknowledged you as his son,” grumbled Jefferson petulantly._

_“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” said Baelfire._

_“You’ve never been on the other side,” protested Jefferson.  “You don’t know what it’s like to not know who your father is because not even your_ mother _was sure!”_

_“True,” admitted Baelfire.  “I can’t even imagine that.  Maybe someday you’ll be able to find out.”_

_Jefferson snorted.  “Yeah right.  How could that ever happen?”_

_“You never know,” said Baelfire, shrugging.  “Stranger things have happened.”_

_“I’ll believe_ that _when I see it.”_

The results of the election were in: Emma had won, so what seemed like the majority of the town had gathered at Granny’s to celebrate.  Dawn and Graham arrived together and waited for the woman of the hour to arrive.  “There she is!” said Dawn, excitedly as Emma opened the door.  “Congrats, Em!”  She ran up to her sister and gave her a big hug.

                “Yeah, good luck, Em’n’Em,” said Gunn, walking over and giving her hug as well.

                “Thanks, guys,” said Emma, smiling nervously.  “Where’s the ball and chain, Gunn?”

                He chuckled.  “Don’t let Fred hear you call her that.  She had to stay back at the hotel with Amy; she’s got the flu.”

                “That sucks,” said Dawn.  “Are the other kidlings here with you?”

                “Believe it or not, Casey’s already made a new friend.  She’s spending the evening at her house.  The boys are around here somewhere; Ben’s fascinated with that Marco guy and the twins have taken to following their brother around everywhere.”

                Emma chuckled.  “I bet he just _loves_ that.”

                “Speaking as an experienced big sister,” said Gunn, quirking an eyebrow.

                “Of course; you can’t tell me Xander didn’t do the same to _you_ on occasion.”

                “True,” he glanced over at where his three sons were pestering the poor, old carpenter and his redheaded friend.  “I should probably go over and rescue those guys from my kids.  See you girls around.  Congrats, lil’ sis.”

                “Thanks, Gunn.”

As Gunn walked away, Graham stepped forward to join the sisters.  “Congratulations, Emma,” he said, smiling at the blonde woman.

                “Thanks, but are you sure you don’t want the deputy job?” she asked him.  “I could really use your experience.”

                “I think you’ll do just fine on your own, Emma.  Besides, I need some time to find out who I am without Regina pulling my strings.  I’m though being her pawn.”

                “I think you’re mixing your metaphors there, Graham,” said Dawn, standing beside him under his arm.

                He shrugged.    “You get the point.”

                “Yeah, I do,” said Dawn.  “You know, maybe it’s not such a bad things to get yourself established before you bring someone else in with you, Emma.”

                Emma huffed.  “I hate it when you make sense.”

                Dawn grinned and patted her older sister on the back.  “But it happens to rarely,” she said cheekily.  “I have to gloat while I can.”

                Graham looked perplexed.  “How does that even make sense?” he asked aloud.

                Emma smirked.  “Welcome to Dawn World, population: Dawn.  After a while, you get used to her.”

                Graham smiled down softly at Dawn who grinned back.  “I’m looking forward to it,” he said.

_Jefferson dashed through the Neverland forest, his baby brother strapped securely to his back and the Lost Boys hot on his heels.  He stumbled and narrowly avoided falling face first into a dreamshade bush.  He cursed profusely, his eight-year-old vocabulary equal to any grown pirate’s.  He thanked his lucky stars that he hadn’t pricked himself or his brother on the deadly plant’s thorns.  He clutched tightly in one hand a worn top hat, his ticket out of Neverland and the reason the Lost Boys chased him so furiously.  He dared not head toward the sea, lest Captain Hook catch him and punish him for taking his beloved son.  Jefferson hadn’t had the heart to leave the helpless infant behind under the precarious care of The Captain’s ever blackening heart and revenge obsessed mind when he’d finally run away.  Stealing the hat from Pan hadn’t been the brightest of ideas, but Jefferson had had more than enough of Neverland to last him a lifetime—they’d been here nearly 300 years, if his count was correct (and none of them had aged a day).  He had lost Bae a while back, by the Echo Caves.  He’d wanted to turn back for the older boy, but Bae had yelled at Jefferson to leave him and save Liam._

_Jefferson came to a screeching halt at the edge of a steep cliff.  He whirled around, his heart racing fast, to face the boys who were once his best friends and closest confidants.  “There’s nowhere left to run, Jefferson,” taunted Felix, stepping forward out of the crowd of bloodthirsty Lost Boys.  “You failed, just like you always do.  Now, hand over the boy and the hat and I’ll make sure that your death is quick and painless.”_

_Jefferson snorted as his wary eyes darted around frantically for an escape route.  “Somehow I just don’t believe you,” he spat at the older blonde teen.  “You’re going to take us back to Pan so he can make an example of us.”_

_“Pan always did say you were too smart for your own good, Jefferson,” said Felix, swinging around his club and chuckling darkly.  “We’ve already caught Baelfire—Pan was impressed by his diversion, but in the end he squealed.  In the end you_ all _squeal.”_

_Jefferson stepped back as Felix took a menacing step forward and his heel slipped slightly as the edge of the cliff crumbled beneath it.  He glanced down at the jagged rocks below.  Certain and quick death now or drawn out torture from Pan.  Neither looked truly appealing to the boy, but he knew he had to choose.  “I’m sorry, Liam,” he whispered to his baby brother, still strapped to his back._

_“So what’ll it be, Jefferson?” said Felix, tapping his club against his leg.  “Certain death…or Pan?”_

_“I think I’ll take a chance on the cliff,” said Jefferson.  “It was nice knowing you, boys.”  He saluted his ex-friends smartly, turned on his heel, and jumped._

_As he fell, he let go of the hat so that he could pull Liam around to cradle the baby protectively against his chest.  He closed his eyes and buried his face in his brother’s soft, dark hair.  He didn’t see the hat give a funny twirl as it left his hand that turned into a purple whirlpool of magical energy, which grew and expanded until Jefferson and Liam fell into it.  The portal closed behind the brothers, leaving behind no trace that they’d ever been in Neverland._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Regina's not done with Dawn & Graham, not by a long shot!
> 
> Please take a minute and leave a review! No flames, please!


	9. Keep My Father Standing Tall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dawn has some decisions to make and Robert is an awesome dad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I have no excuse for the lateness of this chapter...my dragon muses have not been very active lately...
> 
> I make no promises as to the speed at which the next chapter will come out either, sorry.
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

** Chapter 9: Keep My Father Standing Tall **

****

                Dawn knew she had to keep her head down; Regina had been awfully calm since she’d failed to kill Graham.  Truth be told, Dawn was starting to get a little paranoid, jumping at every little thing.  It was no surprise, really, that it all came to a head a few days later.  Dawn had stopped by _Dark Star Pharmacy_ in the late afternoon on her way home from Mr. Gold’s for a few personal essentials and there she ran into Henry.  The kid was actually talking to a couple of kids his own age, for once, and Dawn smiled happily.  She’d noticed during her time in Storybrooke that Henry had very few friends his own age, seemingly preferring the company of adults.  She smiled softly to herself and went back to browsing the shelves for a new shade of lipstick.

                She was distracted from her quest by the raised voice of the store clerk, Mr. Clark, accusing her nephew of shoplifting.  As the boy protested, Dawn stepped forward to defend him.  “Henry wouldn’t steal, Mr. Clark,” she insisted.  “He’s a good boy.”

                “He’s a th-thieving little punk,” said Mr. Clark with a sneeze.  “I’m calling your parents, all three of you!”

                “Now, let’s not be hasty,” said Dawn, trying to placate the shorter man.

                “They’re little thieves,” he snapped back.  “I’m calling the sheriff too.”

                Dawn groaned.  “This is _not_ gonna end well.”

 

 _Dawn stared in wonder as she watched her father twirl her sister, dressed in a beautiful white gown, around the dance floor while Bob Carlisle’s_ Butterfly Kisses _played over the speakers.  Willow’s red hair looked especially striking and stood out like poppies atop a field of freshly fallen snow.  Dawn, just recently thirteen, sighed dreamily.  “She looks just like a princess, doesn’t she?” she said to her sister and fellow bridesmaid, Alonna._

_The fifteen-year-old smiled tiredly and adjusted the jade-flowered white scarf covering her bald head.  “She certainly does.”_

_“What are you girls chatting about over here?” asked Morgan, sliding gracefully into the empty seat beside Alonna._

_The two youngest Philip grinned at their eldest sibling.  “We were just admiring Willow,” said Dawn.  “She looks like one of the fairytale princesses from Mom’s stories.”_

_“She certainly does,” said Morgan wistfully.  “She looks just like Mom did when I first met her.  I remember one of the first things I asked her when Dad and I brought her home was if she was a real princess.  And do you know what she said?”_

_“What?” asked Dawn._

_“She said that she wasn’t yet, but she would be when she married her prince.  Well, Oz may not be a real prince, but he’ll always treat Willow like his princess.”_

_“What are we talking about?” asked Buffy, blonde curls bouncing as she sashayed up to her sisters._

_“The happy couple,” said Morgan, pulling the small eighteen-year-old down onto her lap.  “Dawnie and Lonna here were just saying how much Wills looks like a fairytale princesses today.”_

_“She should,” Buffy scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder.  “Do you have any idea how long Mom and Cordy spent designing and making that dress?”_

_“I hope that someday I can have a father-daughter dance like this,” said Alonna wistfully.  The mood was suddenly somber as the Philips girls stared sadly at their second youngest sister.  She rolled her mocha eyes.  “Don’t give me those pitying looks,” she said.  “I know there’s a chance I’m not going to make it to my own wedding, but I have to hope.  It’s all I have at this point.”_

_“Truly a Mom thing to say,” said Morgan, pulling Alonna into a hug.  “She’s always telling us to never give up hope.”_

_“There’s nothing truer than that, girls.”  The four sisters turned around and smiled at their father.  “However, I think we ought to take advantage of the situation at hand anyway.”  He held out his hand to Alonna and bowed to her.  “May I have this dance, princess?”_

_Alonna giggled and took her Dad’s hand.  “I’d be honored,” she said, allowing Robert to pull her off to the dance floor.  None of the Philips had dry eyes as they watched Robert and Alonna waltz around as if they were the only two people in the world.  They all tried their best to be positive, but they knew that Alonna wasn’t long for this world.  It would break their hearts to see her go, but none more so than Robert, who adored all his children intensely._

It didn’t take long before Regina showed up at the pharmacy, followed soon after by Emma.  “What are you doing here?” the mayor snapped at the sheriff, glaring at the blonde woman.  “Henry’s _my_ son; you have no business being here.”

                “Actually, I do,” said Emma, “seeing as I’m the sheriff and all.”

                “Well, in that case, do your job and take care of these little miscreants.  Henry, we’re going home.”

                Emma huffed in frustration and glared at the back of Regina’s head as she practically dragged her son out of the store.  She then turned to face the twins. “Okay kids; give me your number so I can call your parents.”  The girl rattled off a string of numbers and Emma stepped away to use her cell.

                Dawn eyed the twitchy twins critically.  “That number’s not gonna work, is it?” she said.

                “Why wouldn’t it?” retorted the girl, glaring at Dawn.

                Dawn snorted.  “Oh please,” she said.  “I spent my entire high school career volunteering with my brother at his friend’s homeless shelter in LA.  Trust me, kid; I’ve seen all the tricks.”

                The girl was about to reply when Emma came back.  “Want to tell me why the number you gave me was disconnected?” she asked.  Dawn gave the young girl a look that said “I told you so.”

                “Oh, I forgot, our parents couldn’t pay the phone bill this month,” she quickly said.

                “We were just trying to help them out,” added the boy.

                Emma sighed.  “Look,” she said, “I know something about wanting to help out your parents, but this is not the way to do it; trust me, theft _never_ ends well.”  Dawn always knew that Emma hadn’t told her everything about what had happened the year she’d run away from home and come back pregnant.  Just this one little statement gave her a new glimpse into her sister’s missing year.  “C’mon, I’ll drive you home,” said Emma.  “You too, Dawnie; I’ll drop you by the inn, if you’d like.”

                “Yeah, thanks Em; that’d be great.”

_Dawn sat beside Buffy in the hospital bed, her sister’s blonde head resting tiredly on her shoulder.  Dawn laid her head atop Buffy’s and stared in wonder at the precious scene before her.  Standing in front of the moonlit window, cradling a small bundle gently in his arms, was Buffy’s long-time boyfriend Angel, the vampire with a soul.  The small bundle he stared at with such fierce love was their brand new son whom they’d named Connor Liam Summers-Philip.  “He’s perfect, Buffy,” Dawn whispered.  “You guys did good with this one.”_

_“Thanks, Dawnie,” said Buffy tiredly.  “I’m pretty partial to him myself.”  She glanced over at her partner, totally enraptured by their son.  “I’m so glad Willow was able to remove the happiness clause from Angel’s curse,” she added.  “He deserves moments like this.”_

_“May the road rise up to meet you.  May the wind be always at your back.  May the sun shine warm upon your face; the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand.”_

_“I didn’t know Angel could sing,” said Dawn in awe as they listened to the vampire croon to his son._

_“He can’t, unless it’s an Irish lullaby,” said Buffy. “It’s kind of sweet actually.”  She paused.  “Just don’t ever go out singing karaoke with him.  It’s_ painful _.”_

_Dawn giggled.  “Duly noted.”_

_“Hey, I heard that!”  said Angel without taking his eyes off Connor._

_“Yeah, and it’s true,” said Buffy.  “What are the two things you told me you don’t do?  Sing and date, right?  Well look at you doing both of those things now.”_

_“Yeah, yeah,” said Angel.  “I’ve got no excuses now.  Connor’s only been here for a few hours and I already can’t imagine life without him.”_

_“I’m pretty sure that’s called fatherhood, Angel,” said Dawn.  “At least that’s what Dad tells me.”_

_“Well, I’ve learned that your dad’s a pretty smart guy,” said Angel.  “Guess that means I should listen to him more often, huh?”_

_“Well, he_ does _have a bit of experience in the fatherhood department,” said Buffy dryly._

_“True,” said Angel.  He sighed.  “Does this mean you expect me to start spending more time with him?”_

_Buffy smirked.  “Well, it certainly wouldn’t hurt anything.”_

_“It’s a good thing I love you,” said Angel with a sigh of fake exasperation._

Emma dropped Dawn off at the inn on her way to take the twins home.  Dawn waved goodbye to the retreating bug before heading inside.  She politely greeted Granny, who was in grabbing some paperwork.  “Mr. Gold called for you,” she said bluntly.  “He wants to talk to you as soon as possible.”

“Thanks Granny,” said Dawn.  “I’ll head over to his shop as soon as I drop my stuff off.”

“I’d hurry, kid; Mr. Gold doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“So I’ve noticed,” she muttered under her breath.  “Thanks for the warning, Granny, but I think I can handle my boss.”

 

“Mr. Gold?” Dawn called out into the seemingly empty shop.  “Granny said you wanted to speak with me?”

“I’m in the back room, Miss Philip,” he called back to her.

Dawn wandered into the back where she found her employer sitting at his worktable, carefully repairing an old music box.  “Did you need me to run an errand for you today?” she asked.

“Not quite, Miss Philip,” he said, putting his tools down and giving her his full attention.  “I have something of a proposition for you, if you’d be willing to hear me out.”

She pulled a chair over and sat down primly across from him.  “I’m listening,” she said.

“In the short time you’ve been working for me, I’ve come to realize what a boon having an assistant is,” said Mr. Gold plainly.  “I would like to offer you a full time job running my shop, which will allow me more time to tend to…other pressing business.  In addition, I would offer you a raise in pay and a significant discount on one of my apartments for your own use as well as your dear Mr. Humbert, should you so desire.”

Dawn blinked in surprise.  “Is this a legit offer?  You’re not yanking my chain, right?”

Mr. Gold gave her a humorless smile.  “I don’t joke, Miss Philip.”  He stood up and limped over to an old armoire and pulled out a manila packet from inside.  “I took the liberty of drawing up contracts for both the job offer and the apartment.”  He threw the folder down on the workbench in front of Dawn and sat back down.  “Feel free to take some time and look it over.”

Dawn picked up the folder.  “Do you mind if I fax this over to my dad to look over?  He’s a lawyer over in New York.”

“By all means, Miss Philip, feel free.  I believe that Ms. Lucas has a fax machine at the inn.”

“Thanks Mr. Gold,” said Dawn, standing up and shaking his hand.  “You’ll have your answer by the end of the week.”

_Alonna’s death, while tragic, had not been unexpected.  While it hit the entire Philips family hard, Robert seemed to take it the hardest.  For months after, he moped around the house, the office, and Giselle’s studio.  It seemed to his wife and remaining children that nothing could ever cheer him up again.  The only thing that seemed to make him smile was his month old grandson, Connor, who had been living with his grandparents since he’d left the hospital so that Buffy and Angel could continue to fight the good fight.  Time passed and Robert sunk deeper and deeper into his depression.  Giselle, who had never dealt with this type of feeling before, had no idea what to do._

_Everything changed when they got the call that Emma had been arrested and was in prison down in Phoenix.  Robert finally had something to focus on and threw himself into finding a way to get his daughter released early.  Finally in mid-October, a year and a month after Alonna’s death, Emma was released into her parents’ custody.  She came home drastically changed and Robert took it upon himself to be her rock and safe space.  It worked; for a long time Emma would only confide in her Daddy, much to Giselle’s chagrin.  It was Robert, then, who was the first to hear Emma’s biggest confession yet._

Dawn had faxed the paperwork to her dad as soon as she got back to the inn and he was equally fast in getting back to her.  No sooner had she returned from the diner with her dinner than her phone blared out The Beatles’ _Yellow Submarine_.  “Hi Dad,” Dawn said happily.  “Did you have a chance to look over the paperwork already?”

“I’m looking at it now, Pumpkin,” said Robert from the other end of the line.  “So far it seems like a pretty straightforward contract.”

“Keep an eye out for loopholes, Dad,” cautioned Dawn.  “My new boss is kind of infamous for them.”

“He must be some kind of lawyer, then,” joked Robert, “it’s a mark of our profession.”

Dawn rolled her eyes instinctively.  “Like I’ve never heard _that_ one before,” she said.  “Seriously, though, you’re _nothing_ like my new boss, Dad.”

Robert chuckled.  “I’m glad to hear it, Pumpkin.  Now, about this contract; I’ve made a couple of changes to it to eliminate some problematic clauses, but other than that it looks good.  If you like, I could send it on to your sister for a second opinion.”

“No, that’s okay, Dad,” said Dawn.  “There’s no one I trust more than you.  Thanks again for doing this.”

“It’s no problem, Pumpkin.  You know I’m always here for you. You can come to me for _anything_ ; I’m never too busy for you, Dawn.”

_It was almost Christmas at the Philip house and the kids were starting to trickle in with their families.  The past year since Alonna’s death had been filled with its ups and downs, but overall the family agreed that there had been more ups.  Buffy had given birth the month before Alonna’s death, which had been the earliest of a string of births in the family.  Eight months later, Cordelia gave birth to her and Xander’s first daughter, Ariel, and four months after that came Fred and Gunn’s first daughter, Casey.  To top it off, just a few weeks before Christmas, Willow gave birth to her and Oz’s first son, Alexander “Lex” Osborne.  Of course the year hadn’t been all sunshine and roses; Morgan’s beloved husband Steve had been working at the Twin Towers in New York City on September 11 th and hadn’t survived, leaving her a widow with two young children; Sarah, age nine, and Danny, only three._

_Emma watched with a heavy heart as her family gathered together for Christmas.  Not only was she missing Alonna and even Steve, but her own secret loss was tearing her apart.  She needed her daddy more than ever, despite the fact that she was now legally an adult.  She wandered around their New York mansion searching for him and carefully avoiding her brothers and sisters and their new progeny.  She found her dad in the last place she expected him to be on Christmas Eve.  Robert was tucked away in his in-home office, engrossed in paperwork of some sort.  Emma figured it must be important for him to forgo family time this close to Christmas, so she turned to leave.  She was thwarted in her plan by a creaky old floorboard, which caused Robert to look up from his papers._

_“Hello Little Swan,” he said, pushing the paperwork aside.  “Did you need something?”_

_“I-ah, I was hoping we could talk, Dad,” she said, “but if you’re busy…”_

_“I’m never too busy for you, Emma,” he said seriously.  “Come sit down with me and tell me what’s on your mind.”_

_Emma gingerly sat down on the straight-backed armchair in front of his desk and began to fidget with a small, developing hole in her blue jeans.  “I-I wanted to talk to you about something that happened to me while I was…gone,” she said after several minutes’ silence, Robert never hurrying or pressuring her to speak.  “I-I met this guy,” she said hesitantly, “and at first we were just friends, but…along the way, something changed and I fell for him hard.  I was in love and I thought he loved me back; he sure acted like he did, anyway…until something went wrong and he never showed for our meeting and he left me to take the fall for his crime.  I was arrested, which you already knew, but what you don’t know is that while I was in prison I found out that I was pregnant.  I was alone and scared and I didn’t think I could talk to you or Mom so I made the decision to have the baby and give it up for adoption.  Nine months later my son was born and I couldn’t even bring myself to hold him before the doctors took him away from me forever.” Emma paused and gave Robert a sad look.  “You’re the first person I’ve told about him, Dad.”_

_Robert stood up and held out his arms to Emma.  “Come here, Little Swan,” he said and the young blonde woman let out a sob and lunged into her father’s open arms.  “There, there,” he said, soothing stroking her loose curls.  “Daddy’s here, Sweetheart.  Everything’s going to be okay; Daddy will make sure of it.”_

_“Thank you, Daddy,” sobbed Emma, burying her face in his shoulder.  “I’m sorry I ran away.  I love you and Mom so much; I never meant to hurt you.”_

_“I know, baby girl.  I’m just glad you came back to us safe.  I’m sorry you had to go through so much alone; I wish I could take all that pain away from you.  I promise, though, I will do whatever I can to ease your pain.  If you want me to track to this guy and force him to face the music, I will.  If you want me to track down your son and bring him back to you, I will.  Just say the word, Emma, and I promise you’ll have whatever your heart desires.”_

_Emma sniffed and turned her head to look up at her dad without lifting it from his shoulder.  “I appreciate the offer, Daddy, but I think I just want to put this all behind me now.”_

_“Well, if you ever change your mind…”_

_“You’ll always be there for me.”_

_“Always and forever, Princess.”_

Dawn spent the rest of the day working on her Master’s Thesis. She’d found a wealth of new information in the book she’d procured from Mr. Gold’s shop and consequently decided to rewrite an entire section. By the time her brain was shot, it was already dark out and she realized she’d lost an entire day to the allure of ancient languages.  She closed her laptop and stretched her arms out above her head, cracking her back in the process. “That felt good,” she groaned in pleasure.

Dawn picked up her cell phone and quickly dialed Emma’s number.  Her sister picked up right away.  “Did you find anything?” Dawn asked.

“About what?” asked Emma.

“The twins,” said Dawn. “Did you find their parents?”

“Yeah, they’re with their dad now.  Speaking of,” Emma’s voice went quiet, “I told Henry about his dad today.”

“Really?”

“Well, sort of.  I may have embellished a little.”

“Define ‘a little.’”

“A lot.”

Dawn sighed. “Emma…”

“I know, I know.  I just wanted Henry to look up to his Dad.  He’d be devastated if I told him the truth.”

“ _He_ would? Or _you_ would, Em.”

Emma huffed.  “Stop being so damn smart, Dawnie.”

“Sorry, no can do.  I take after Dad.”

                Dawn could practically hear Emma’s eye roll over the phone.  “Whatever,” Emma said.  “Just—let me tell Henry in my own time, okay?”

                “Fine, but the truth’ll come out eventually.  It always does.”

                “I know.”  Emma suddenly let out a string of profanity.

                “What happened?” asked Dawn, concerned.

                “You’ll never guess who just rode into town,” said Emma resignedly.

                “Who?”

                “Nick, Faith, and Ty on those stupid motorcycles of theirs.”

                “That’ll turn a few heads,” said Dawn.

                “Yeah, no kidding. It’s really the last thing I need right now, with Regina breathing down my neck.”

                “Tell them to come to Granny’s.  I’ll get rooms set up for them.”

                “Of course.  I just don’t know what I’m gonna tell Henry.”

                “Why don’t you try the truth for once?” retorted Dawn.

                “Now where’s the fun in that?”

 

                _“Have you ever thought about having kids?” Emma asked absently as she lay next to Neal in bed, his strong fingers gently playing with her golden hair._

_“Is there something you want to tell me, Em?” he asked teasingly._

_She turned to face him and smiled at the contentment she saw in his deep, dark eyes.  “No, just a thought I had.  I know you didn’t have the most conventional childhood…”_

_Neal tucked her hair behind her ear and took her hand to play with her fingers instead.  “Actually, I’ve always wanted to be a father,” he admitted.  “Things didn’t end well with my Papa, but before he…changed, he was actually the best father a little boy could ask for.  He could have turned me against my mother after she left us, but he didn’t.  He always made sure to paint her in a good light for me, despite what I heard the other people around town say about what really happened.”_

_“What_ did _happen, Neal?” asked Emma curiously.  “I don’t think you’ve ever told me this story before.”_

_He shrugged and avoided Emma’s eyes.  “She ran off with some sailor when I was maybe five years old and I never saw her again.  Papa was all I had and we were happy…but he got into some really bad stuff right around my thirteenth birthday.  By the time I was fourteen, I just couldn’t deal with my new Papa anymore.  I gave him an ultimatum…and he didn’t choose me, so I left.”_

_Emma pulled Neal close and held him in her loving embrace.  A guilty feeling sank into the bottom of her stomach like stone.  “Neal,” she said, “I’m so sorry.  I wish you’d never had to go through that.  It makes my reasons for running away seem so…petty.”_

_“No, Emma,” said Neal, kissing her head softly.  “You needed to find yourself; that’s not petty.  You might not have thought your decision through completely, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t real reasons.”_

_“I’m adopted,” said Emma, pulling back from Neal so that she could look at him while she spoke.  “My parents are amazing and I’ve never considered looking for my birth parents before, but my little sister died a few months ago—cancer—and I just couldn’t take my big, weird family anymore.  I needed to get out and I figured looking for the people who brought me into this world was as good a reason as any.”_

_“Emma, any reason you had is a good reason because it’s_ yours _,” said Neal sagely.  “I can understand better than anyone running off when things get tough.  The difference between you and me is that you can go back home when you’re ready—I’ll probably never see my Papa again.”_

 

                Dawn stood outside of Granny’s inn, wrapped up snuggly in her favorite one of Willow’s old, fuzzy, pink kitty sweaters while she waited for her wayward sister, brother, and nephew to find the place.  She didn’t have to wait very long before she heard the loud _VROOM_ of motorcycle engines pulling up the drive.  She raised her hand in greeting as her siblings parked their bikes.  Nick grabbed their bags while Faith gently picked up a sleeping Tyler and then the two rogue Philip siblings made their way over to Dawn.

                “Great to see you, Little D,” said Faith, grinning at her sister.  “Any chance you got us some rooms?  I want to put Ty down before he wakes up again.”

                “Of course,” said Dawn, giving Faith a quick, one-armed hug.  “You and Tyler are just down the hall from me.  Nick, you’re next door to them.  I hope you don’t mind.”

                “You know I like my privacy, little sis,” said Nick, coming up behind his sisters.  Dawn couldn’t help but notice that her brother was limping strangely in a way that she knew had nothing to do with his motorcycle.

                “So how about you guys meet me in my room for breakfast tomorrow morning?” said Dawn, standing between her siblings and slinging an arm around each of their shoulders.  “I’ve got a _lot_ to tell you.”

 

                The next morning Faith dropped her son off with Fred and Gunn while Dawn ran over to Granny’s to get breakfast.  By the time she got back, Faith and Nick were ready and waiting for her in her room.  Nick stood up stiffly and walked over to give Dawn a hug.  “I never actually got to say hi last night, sis,” he said.  “I’ve missed you.”

                “You do realize that’s equally as much your fault as mine, Nicky,” said Dawn, her voice slightly muffled in her brother’s shoulder.

                “Yeah I know.  I’ve been doing the traveling writer thing far too much lately.  Mom and Dad have already read me the riot act,” the tall brunette said, rolling his bright blue eyes.

                “So what’d you wanna talk to us about, Little D?”  asked Faith as brother and sister finally separated.  “We all got your postcards, but ya really didn’t say all that much about what you and Ems are doing in this Storybrooke place.”

                Dawn looked at Faith, sprawled out on her bed, and Nick, lounging against the wall by the door, and decided to sit down on the desk chair.  “So it all started on Emma’s birthday when this kid showed up at the apartment,” began Dawn.  “You remember that year that Emma ran away?”

                “When she got arrested?” said Nick.

                “And pregnant?” added Faith.

                “Yes, that time your bad seed titles almost got usurped,” replied Dawn.  “Well, turns out this kid was Emma’s.”

                “The one she gave up for adoption?” said Nick.

                “Yes, now please stop interrupting and let me tell the story,” said Dawn, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting.

                “Sorry, kiddo.  Please continue.”

                “Right, so this kid—Henry’s his name—proceeds to blackmail Emma into driving him back home to Storybrooke.  Once we get here, he tells us this incredible story about cursed fairytale characters that lines up nearly _perfectly_ with all of Mom’s stories.  So we spend the next few weeks assimilating into the small town life—oh, did I mention that Emma’s the sheriff now?—and all the while Henry and I are trying to wear Emma down to the idea of magic and fairytales being real.  Any questions so far?”

                “Yeah,” said Nick, “how’s that going for you?  I mean, do you have a time-table on when Emma might be ready to break the curse?”

                Dawn narrowed her eyes at her oldest brother.  “Why does it matter?” she asked.  “It’s not like it affects you or anything.”

                Nick and Faith shared a look.  “Actually, Little D, that’s part of the reason we came,” said Faith.  “Show her, P.”

                Nick awkwardly shifted his weight from the wall and slowly pulled his pant leg up to reveal… “When did you get a prosthetic leg?” asked Dawn.  “Actually, when did you _lose_ your leg would be a better question, I think.”

                “I didn’t,” said Nick, pulling his pant leg back down. 

                “August Pinocchio Philip, make with the explainey,” said Dawn, staring at her brother intensely.

                “I think you just gave yourself the answer there, Little D,” Faith drawled, flopping over onto her stomach and staring at her siblings.

                Dawn furrowed her brow in thought.  “I gave myself the answer,” she muttered to herself.  “What the hell does that even mean, Faith?”

                “Wait for it,” Faith said, smirking at Nick.

                Dawn’s eyes widened suddenly.  “Oh I get it!  You’re _Pinocchio_!”

                “Congratulations, Dawnie,” said Nick dryly. “Now, can you put that together?”

                “You’re turning back into wood because you’re Pinocchio and, for some reason, the spell that turned you into a real boy thinks you’re being less than good and truthful—which is a load of crap, FYI.  You’re like the best big brother ever!”

                Nick smiled at her crookedly and leaned back against the wall.  “Thanks, Dawnie,”he said, “but obviously the Blue Fairy thinks otherwise, since she’s the one who turned me human in the first place.”

                “Screw the Blue Fairy,” snapped Dawn, jumping up from her chair.  “What does that flying bitch know about being good and trustworthy?  She’s not the one who taught me how to ride a bike without training wheels or let my cry on his shoulder when Bobby Thompson broke up with me in sixth grade.  She’s not the one who explained to me what was going on with Lonna when she first got sick or why Morgan was getting so big and moody the first time she was pregnant.”

                “Yeah, P, Little D’s right.  You’re the only one in our crazy family I can count on to relate to me.  I can’t imagine growing up without ya, P; we’re bros, yah?”  Faith held out her hand in a fist and looked at her brother expectantly.

                Nick cracked a smile and stepped forward to fist-bump Faith.  “Bros,” he said, relief creeping into his voice.  “Thanks, Fay, I needed that.”

                “You know I’m always here for you,” said the curvy brunette, standing up to give her brother a hug.  “If either of you tell anyone about this, I’ll kick your asses.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I explained well enough why Emma would still give up Henry even with the loving family that she was raised in.
> 
> Reviews feed the savage beasts that are my tired dragon muses! (Please no flames.)


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